


Lost

by AmySPNfic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BAMF Dean, Back to the beginning, Brotherly Love, Dean Winchester Has Powers, F/M, Family, Gen, Ghost Dean, Happy Ending, Hurt Dean Winchester, Psychic Sam, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Temporary Character Death, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:46:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1276945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmySPNfic/pseuds/AmySPNfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean doesn't go to Stanford to ask for Sam's help, instead heading to Jericho alone to search for John. Sam unexpectedly receives a vision of Dean in trouble and sets off to find his big brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

_August 2003 - Ohio_

Dean Winchester is tired. Standing outside, resting his head on the door of yet another run down motel room, he listens to his father and brother having an all out 'who-cares-what-the-neighbors-think' screaming match. Building his resolve to go into the room and try to defuse the situation is taking more effort than he cares to admit. He hates taking sides between his dad and brother, as ultimately he is the one that comes out the loser. By either angering John or disappointing Sam, Dean can't help thinking that sometimes it sucks to be him.

The bottom line; Sammy is leaving. He'd been accepted into Stanford and this is the ticket out that Dean knows that Sam has been praying for. It's killing him to think the Sam will soon be gone; he's spent most of his life caring for the kid and now for the first time Dean is left with the very real prospect of life without his brother.

Whilst he doesn't understand Sam's desire for an apple pie life, he respects that it is Sam's choice to make. Something John Winchester just can't grasp. Ever since their mother was murdered they'd been raised as soldiers, preparing for the final showdown with the demon that killed her, but as Sam can't even remember their mom he doesn't feel the same need for vengeance that John and Dean feel.

The voices in the room continued to rise and gritting his teeth Dean, pushes open the door and enters the fray.

 

* * *

_October 2005- New Orleans_

God damn it, Dean thinks to himself. Staring at his cell phone, he's yet again playing another round of the 'Should I call Sammy?' game. So far he'd resisted, knowing that has much as it hurt, Sam was living a better life without him. Not just better, safer as well. Dean misses his brother fiercely and can't decide whether hearing Sammy's voice would make him feel better or worse.

Growling to himself, he angrily stands and moves away from the phone. Why is this so frigging difficult to decide – call him or don't call him, make a choice and get on with it. Dragging a hand through his hair he asks himself for what feels like the hundredth time – Where the hell is Dad?

Grabbing the phone off his unmade bed, Dean angrily punches the number for John's other, other cell. After a few rings the call gets diverted to that all too familiar voice message, instructing the caller to ring Dean. How the hell is that supposed to help him!

Stalking around the unkempt motel room Dean finally makes a decision. Sam is better where he is, and Dad is probably just knee-deep in a hunt. He knows the last place John was headed and quickly grabbing his belongings, makes the choice to follow his Dad.

Once he's checked out of the motel Dean dumps his crap in the back of the Impala and roars out of the parking lot. Next stop Jericho.

 

* * *

_October 2005 - Stanford University, California_

Sitting in a dark and crowded bar Sam Winchester feels good. When he'd first arrived at Stanford two years ago, he couldn't walk into a bar without feeling utterly depressed. Every time someone raised their voice or he heard laughter, Sam had half expected to turn around and see Dean leaning over the pool table, face deep in concentration hustling some poor sap of their hard earned cash.

Now sitting here, surrounded by friends and sitting next to the most amazing woman he's ever met. It strikes him often how lucky he is to have met Jess; she's patient, intelligent, beautiful and by some miracle, his.

It had taken a long time but he's finally happy with his new life. He's doing well in his classes, has a great circle of friends and is in love. Still, he misses his brother every day, always worrying if Dean is alright. Too many times to count Sam had dialled Dean's number and then chickened out, convincing himself that Dean is fine and that hearing his voice would just send him straight back to how he felt in the beginning.

Even now, with his friends speaking enthusiastically around him, his thoughts linger with Dean; what is he doing, is he on a hunt, and is he happy? Grumbling to himself internally, Sam tries to tear his thoughts away from his older brother.

Looking over at Jess, he realised she is looking back at him with a troubled frown. Damn, How long have I been spaced out?

"Are you okay?" Jess asks quietly, concern evident in her tone.

Just as Sam is about to reply that's he's fine, the most intense pain he's ever felt in his life stops him in his tracks. His head feels like it's about to explode and he can feel his body sliding back off the bar stall, but he can't do anything to stop his fall.

Images flash through his mind; Dean standing on a bridge looking at a woman in the distance. Dean driving down a dark highway with the same woman in the passenger seat. Then finally the woman attacking Dean, revealing herself to be a ghost and shoving her fingers deep into his chest, whilst he screams out in agony.

Sam can barely breathe as the images start to recede, but the panic and fear reverberating around his body only intensifies. Jess is standing over him frantically repeating his name and his friends have formed a semi-circle around where he's fallen, but Sam doesn't notice.

Only one thought is repeating itself over and over again; Dean is in serious trouble.

 

* * *

_7 Miles from Jericho, California_

Dean rubs at his tired eyes, he's been driving too long but anxiety stops him from finding a motel on the way. Seeing a passing sign he's relieved that there's less than ten miles to his destination, already looking forward to a few hours rest. Rolling down the window of his beloved car, he hopes the cold air will give him an extra boost of energy.

Three weeks ago, Dean and John had come across a case of guys going missing along a small stretch of highway. After enough evidence had piled up, confirming their suspicions that something supernatural was happening John had set off to do some digging.

Not long after Dean made the decision to follow John to Jericho, his father had unexpectedly left him a voicemail. After pulling into a rest stop he'd played the message back. John hadn't exactly been reassuring, in fact it had been the opposite; informing Dean to be on his guard and they were in danger. Whilst already worried about the fact he hadn't spoken to his dad in three weeks, what had Dean putting his foot all the way down on the gas pedal was the ethereal voice that he'd discovered faintly in the background of the call.  
The poor, crackling quality to the call immediately has Dean thinking of EVP, so after cleaning up the static, he'd played the message again. This time he could clearly hear the voice of a woman "I can never go home"

Dean's sure his father can handle a ghost, but the faster he gets to Jericho, the better. He'd already called around the local hospitals and thankfully no-one matching his dad's description had been admitted.

The miles pass rapidly and before long he's entering the town limits. Unfortunately it seems like sleep is going to have to wait. Up ahead he spots couple of cop cruisers and officers milling around. After pulling over, Dean reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out a small box, rifling through his collection of fake I.D's he settles on the Federal Marshal badge.

Climbing out, he ambles closer to the scene and listens in on the conversation. Apparently a local kid had gone missing. Following the exchange between the two deputies, Dean takes note of the name of the missing guy's girlfriend - he'd probably need to speak to her later.

Deciding to try and get more details from the cops he moves closer. After flashing his badge and a brief conversation with the two deputies, Dean finds out the cops are grasping at straws. They can't provide much more than he already knows.

Heading back to the Impala, Dean passes two Feds and the Sheriff.

"Can I help you, Son?" the Sheriff asks. Dean just smiles, shakes his head and moves away. If Dad or Sam had been there he might've made a smart alec comment but his heart just isn't in it.

Thinking about Sam hurts. Maybe I should've just called him, Dean thinks to himself. Sighing, he gets back in the Impala. Dad being missing wasn't something entirely new to Dean but he can't help but feel he might be handling the whole situation better with Sam helping him out.

 

* * *

 

Sam angles his crappy rental car into a vacant parking bay adjacent to the reception of Jericho's only motel.

It's been over two days since his…episode… in the bar and he still hadn't been able to contact Dad or Dean. Whilst he always had regrets not keeping in touch with Dean for the past two years, now is the first time he wishes he'd bothered to call Dad as well. Two years is plenty of time for them to have changed their cell numbers more than once. Only one of the numbers Sam had listed was still in service, but every time he rang he only got put through to voice mail of his Dad reciting a phone number and instructing him to call Dean. His brother had usually been good with taking care of his cell but Dean hadn't answered once, despite Sam trying every few hours.

Pulling his long frame from the car, he breathes a sigh of relief. Being in such a rush to get to Dean he hadn't had an awful lot of choice at the car rental place, and had ended up having to take a small junker that Dean would've vehemently refused to be seen in.

Stretching his aching limbs, Sam moves towards the reception to check in. Knowing that there aren't many other options for travellers to stay in this town, he's carrying a photo of Dean.

"One room, please" Sam say's to the tired looking clerk.

"Sure, that cash or card?" he replies

"Cash. I don't suppose you've seen this man in the last few days have you?" Sam asks, holding up Dean's photo.

"Yeah, I've seen him; thought he might've been in town for a reunion. Strange surnames tend to stick out, he and another guy both checked in recently"

Sam's head shoots up at this statement So Dad and Dean are in town

"Are they still here?" he manages to choke out.

"Well the first guy, the older one, he booked the room for a month but I haven't seen him in about a week. The younger guy, he also booked a room and I saw him a day or two ago" the clerk answers.

"Can you possibly tell me the room numbers?" Sam asks with his politest smile.

"Sure, let me get those for you" the guy responds.

Standing outside the second of the two rooms his Dad and brother had booked, Sam feels anxious.

The first room was a bust, after checking he wasn't being watched he picked the lock and had gone into the room. Whilst it was clear that Dean had been there, when was the guy going to stop drying his socks in the sink, he wasn't there now. Sam already expected to find the room empty as the Impala wasn't parked outside.

Door number two then, again picking the lock he moves into the room, closing the door behind him. Whilst the dank, musty smell is the first thing that assaults his senses, it's the walls of the room that bring him up short.

Every flat surface is covered in research. So there's definitely a case, Sam thinks, stepping closer to the nearest wall. He starts scanning through each page, noticing that a lot of the pages are missing posters for local men. Finally something catches his eye and causes him to gasp. On a newspaper clipping from the Jericho Herald there's a picture of the woman he saw in his vision, and stuck to the article is a post-it note, on which "Woman in White" is messily scrawled in his dads handwriting.

"You dogs" Sam mutters under his breath, again looking at the faces staring back at him from the posters.

Grabbing the clipping from the wall, Sam reviews the article stopping when he reads 'Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge at mile 33 of Centennial Highway'

Sam stumbles back towards the bed, sitting he rakes his fingers through his hair. Sylvania Bridge. His thoughts flashing back to the vision of Dean, standing on a bridge, with the same woman from the article. Visions, he sighs to himself, as if he wasn't enough of a freak before. When he finds Dean how the hell is he going to explain that, he can't even explain it himself. His head still aches from the vivid images that forced themselves into his mind.

 

* * *

  

 _Stanford University, California - Two Days Earlier_  

Blinking up at the bright lights, Sam finally manages to reclaim some control over his body. After the vision receded, the first thing he noticed was Jess's panicked expression. He wants to tell her that he's okay, but battling the torrent of emotions circling his body, instead has him gasping for air. Long moments pass before he finally climbs shakily to his feet.

Brushing past the worried questions from his friends, with a muttered apology, he leads Jess outside. Sam's heart drops as he says four words he had never thought he would be saying to her.

"I have to leave" he says hurriedly. Already walking in the direction of their apartment.

"What? What do you mean leave? You just collapsed in there, where could you have to go right now, other than the hospital?" She asks surprised, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

He's walking so fast that she's practically running to keep up with his long strides.

"Jess, I'm really sorry but I can't explain this right now, I am begging you to trust me" Sam pleads "I have to go, I know you're not going to understand this, but my brother needs me"

"Just stop for a second. What do you mean your brother needs you?" she questions.

Sam can see from her expression that she's wondering if perhaps he hit his head inside. Stopping, he grabs her hands and finally looks her in the eye.

Whilst she might not understand, Sam can tell that she's not going to fight his decision. With the panic he's feeling, he's not surprised that Jess picked up on it straight away. She could always read him like a book.

"Okay, you need to go; but what about your interview?" She asks, referring to his upcoming law school interview.

"I'll only be gone a few days, I'll make the interview" Sam's reply is instant, having already thought about this.

Sam sees her look at his face, open her mouth to ask another question but she doesn't. I don't deserve her, he thinks to himself, not for the first time.

Upon reaching their apartment, Sam grabs his duffel and starts stuffing clothes in to last a couple of days. Jess stands aside, looking at him with worry.

Residual flashes from the vision, race through his mind. Searching through the images, one in particular stands out. Dean on the dark road with his mysterious female passenger, looking ahead through the windshield there is a passing sign, 'Centennial Highway, Jericho'.

Moving to his desk, he swipes papers out of the way till he finds his map book. Searching the pages he finds Jericho with ease, and breathes a sigh of relief, somehow finding the fact that it's real town reassuring rather than frightening.

Adding the book to his duffle, Sam apologies one more time to Jess, with a quick kiss and a promise to call her as soon as he can, he's out the door.

 

* * *

 

With some effort Sam drags his thoughts away from Jess, standing he folds the newspaper article and slides it into his pocket. With one more cursory glance around the room, Sam leaves to grab his own belongings from the car.

Once he'd placed his clothes in his room and locked the door, Sam talks with the motel clerk and gets directions for Sylvania Bridge. Climbing back into the car, he pulls from the parking lot and drives towards the bridge.

From what the clerk had said Dad had obviously arrived in town before Dean, but Sam couldn't figure out why. Before he'd left for Stanford they'd always gone on hunts together. He supposed that Dean could be running his own hunts now, he was 26 after all, but that still didn't explain why they were both in town now, or why he couldn't reach either of them.

It didn't take long to reach his destination, and once the car was parked Sam walked onto the bridge. He had to stop and take a deep breath; this was definitely the place in his vision. It was different seeing it in the daylight, but there was no mistaking that this was the same bridge.

No sign of Dean now though, only one Deputy winding up some yellow tape. Kicking himself for not bringing any fake I.D, Sam heads towards the man, knowing that this isn't going to go as smoothly as it would if he could flash a badge.

"Excuse me" Sam says "Have you seen this man" Showing the Deputy the picture he had of Dean.

"Yeah, I saw him two days ago. Are you another Marshal?" He replies eyeing Sam suspiciously. Obviously not buying this, considering Sam is wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.

"Uh, no sir. He's my brother. He was in town on assignment, but our father has fallen ill and I haven't been able to reach him"

"Sorry to hear that, son, but I haven't seen him since"

"Okay, thanks for your time. By the way, did something happen here" Sam asks gesturing to the yellow tape.

"We've had some locals go missing, but that isn't anything for you to worry about" he replies, effectively ending the conversation.

Sam thanks the deputy again before heading back to the car. Now what, he thinks to himself. Pulling the newspaper clipping from his pocket, Sam scans the article again. Looking at a picture lower on the page, he notices that it's a photo of Joseph Welch, the husband of Constance.

Sure that Dean would've spoken with the man, Sam decides to venture out and see if this Joseph can add any more details to his investigation, really hoping that this next step will be the one that leads him to Dean. Before it's too late, he thinks before he can help it.


	2. Chapter Two

_Welch Residence, Jericho_

"How many goddamned people does it take to write a story these days" Joseph Welch angrily spits at Sam.

Apparently both Dad and Dean had followed the same line of evidence as Sam, leading them to Mr Welch, who was clearly not pleased at the third Winchester arriving at his door.

"I'm sorry Sir, there must've been a mistake with our assignments, I didn't mean to cause you any trouble" Sam replies trying to calm the irate man.

"I already told your colleagues everything I can about that night, what more do you want from me. As if dragging up the worst time in my life wasn't bad enough, you know the second guy who showed up actually had the nerve to ask me whether I'd been unfaithful to my poor Constance. I may not have been the best husband, but I loved my wife" he ends his speech, shaking with anger and tears in his eyes. "Now get the hell off my property, before I call the damned police"

Sam apologises again, but Mr Welch is done talking and stalks away. Walking back to the car Sam can't help but feel some small measure of relief, Dean had been here recently.

If Dean had been here, then he'd definitely seen the same article as Sam about Constance Welch, meaning that he'd most likely also gone to their old address on Breckenridge Road.

Driving back into town Sam decides that he needs some provisions before going out to Breckenridge. Once back at the motel he again enters his Dads room, hoping that he'll find what he needs. Stepping out of the room fifteen minutes later, Sam is thanking his lucky stars. Not only did he find a sawed off shot-gun nestled under the bed, but he also found a large supply of rock salt rounds.

Once the items are safely stashed away in the trunk, Sam is soon heading down Centennial Highway. With the sun setting behind him, he pushes his foot all the way down, praying that he arrives in time to stop anything

* * *

 

_Breckenridge Road, Jericho_

Turning his car onto the long drive leading to the old Welch house, Sam immediately spots the Impala parked outside the rundown property.

Slamming the brakes, Sam is out of the car in an instant, quickly grabbing the shotgun from the trunk he walks towards his brother's car. What he sees next makes his blood run cold. Even though the sun has set by the time he arrives, the rental car's headlamps flood light over the scene. The windshield of the Impala has been smashed, there's a bloody handprint on the driver side window and most worryingly there is no sign of Dean. His brother is going to be supremely pissed when this is all over; no one hurts the Impala without invoking Dean's wrath.

"Dean" Sam calls out, not caring to keep his voice low.

"Dean, are you here?" He shouts this time, barely concealing the panic he feels. Striding around the Impala, he starts walking quickly towards the house. Just as he is about to try and enter the boarded up property, he sees something moving from the corner of his eye.

Constance Welch is standing on the porch, staring at him. Quickly aiming the shotgun at the woman, Sam fires off one salt round. She vanishes before he can send another her way.

"DEAN" Sam screams again, the terror and dread from his visions resurfacing.

Spinning back towards the house, Sam is about to ram his way through the boarded up door but before he can land his first blow, he's sailing backwards through the air. Landing in a painful heap, Sam immediately tries to stand, but stops abruptly when he realises Constance is standing over him.

"I can never go home" She says, pain evident in her voice and expression. Long brown hair hangs down to her waist and the white dress she is wearing is covered in dirt.

Realising the shot-gun has landed further than he can reach, Sam is about to roll away when she leans forward and slams her fingers into his chest.

The pain is worse than anything he could've imagined, her ice cold fingers burning and freezing him all at once. Crying out in pain, Sam makes one more effort to reach the gun but he can no longer see it in his field of vision. Just as feels he's like he's lost his battle with consciousness, he hears a loud blast and Constance disappears from above him.

"Get away from my brother, you bitch" Sam hears from a very familiar voice.

"Dean" Sam manages to cough out, angling his head to see his older brother.

"Hey Sammy, glad to see your choice in women hasn't changed" Dean replies with a cocky smile.

He looks just as Sam remembers him, slightly paler perhaps but still just the same confident, arrogant big brother he loves. Standing with a grimace, _Man, that really hurt,_ Sam starts walking towards his brother, who's standing by the corner of the house.

"Hold up a second there, Sammy. Hang back for a moment" Dean says, holding up his hands, his smile turning strained.

Slowing his pace, uncertainty spreads through Sam's mind. Dean might not ever instigate what he perceived as girly moments, but he'd never stopped Sam from giving him a hug. Something was really wrong. Since hearing his brother's voice, a calm had spread through him, and seeing Dean standing a small distance away from him he'd been sure that he'd arrived before anything terrible had happened to Dean. Now he wasn't so sure.

"I need to tell you something, Sammy. Something you're going to have trouble hearing" his older brother states, palms still turned towards Sam.

"Please Sam, just stop for a minute" Dean pleads.

But Sam continues towards his brother, confusion lacing his thoughts. Looking Dean in the face, his older brothers expression is suddenly painfully sad and even a little scared, _What could possibly..._ , he starts to think, but then he knows. Falling to his knees, gasping for breath, Sam feels like a thousand swords have just been pushed through his body. His mind goes blank and with no effort to stop his fall, the ground rushes up to meet his head. Lying just around the corner is the bloody and prone form of his big brother.

* * *

 

With a monumental effort Sam strains to open his eyes. His head is throbbing, and he's pretty sure when he reaches up he'll find blood slowly seeping down his face. _Urgh, why am I on the ground,_ he wonders. _Oh God, Dean,_ he remembers, bile rising up from his stomach.

Twisting his head far too quickly, causing black spots to appear in front of his eyes, he can see the bottom of his brother's boots lying close to where he fell.

"No, no, no! Dean!" Sam chokes, his throat aching and dry. Struggling against the dizzy, nauseous feeling, he climbs to his feet, swaying slightly.

This can't be right, Dean had been here just before he'd passed out, hope rises through him that this is just some cruel trick. Edging closer to the body, Sam feels his heart plummet. There's no mistaking that this is his brother, the same brother that cared for him for most of his life, who trained him, taught him and loved him unconditionally. Tears spring to Sam's eyes as he closes the last gap between him and Dean's unmoving body.

"Hey Sammy" a voice says behind Sam, causing him to whip his head around.

Standing less than five feet away is Dean, with such an agonised expression, that the tears start streaming down Sam's face.

Sam tries to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a rasping cry. Dean takes a few steps closer, but before he can reach Sam his whole body flickers like a broken movie reel and he vanishes.

Staring at the spot his dead brother had been standing in, Sam breaks down completely. How could he have let this happen, Dean had always, ALWAYS, been there for him and he hadn't even been able to do the same. Looking down at the still body at his feet, Sam's eyes cloud over with emotion. Why couldn't he have gotten the damned vision sooner, how had this helped in any way, pain quickly turning to fury.

Bending down, he slowly places his hands under Dean's body. Lurching to his feet, struggling under the heavy weight of his brother, he starts walking towards the Impala. With some effort he manages to extract the car keys from Dean's pocket and places him gently across the back seat, trying with all his might to ignore how cold his brother feels. Even with the window smashed, making the Impala dangerous to drive, there is no way he can fit Dean's long frame into his rental.

Closing the door, he leans back on the sleek black car. Rubbing at his face, Sam tries to bring his thoughts in order. The rage pouring through his mind and body frightens him, but it's more useful right now than the underlying grief that keeps threatening to rise to the surface.

Looking up and seeing the house, brings Sam back to why he's here; Constance Welch. The fucking bitch who'd murdered his brother. Seeing red and physically shaking with anger, Sam moves to the trunk of the Impala and grabs some supplies, stuffing them into a duffle then slinging it over his shoulder, a plan already formulating in his mind.

Marching towards the property, Sam grabs the shot-gun from the ground and without stopping, reloads some salt rounds from his pocket. Once he reaches the door, he kicks it down with one powerful motion sending rotten wooden splinters in every direction. His sense of caution is gone, as he takes a jerry can from the bag and begins spreading gasoline all around the house. Moving through the rooms, it becomes apparent that Dean was in the midst of finishing this job as Sam finds a shovel leaning up against the back door and fresh mud caked on the floor. Opening the backdoor Sam walks out making sure to continue a trail of gasoline, finally spotting three shallow graves. From reading the article earlier that day and knowing that Women in White are usually a result of familicide, he's not surprised that there a three graves instead of one, he feels a new wave of revulsion course through him. Taking a second can from the bag his pours more gas into each grave and cracking open some of the leftover rounds from his pocket he adds salt too.

Noticing movement Sam looks up and sees Constance standing a short distance away, without hesitation he aims the shot-gun and fires, causing her to vanish once again. Moving quickly now, he re-enters the house and finishes emptying the gasoline. Reaching again into the bag; he pulls out a book of matches. Once clear of the house he strikes the matches and sends them flying through the door, immediately igniting the accelerant.

After a while the heat and intensity increases, and as the fire starts to climb higher Constance reappears before Sam. Storming towards him, the anger on her face is insignificant in comparison to how he is feeling and he won't ever deny the satisfaction he gets when she suddenly bursts into flames, trailing embers around him that slowly fade away into nothing.

After placing the shot-gun and duffle back in the trunk, he stands there for what feels like hours. Sam watches the house reduce to nothing but smouldering piles of ash, not caring if the flames have attracted the attention of the local authorities. He knows what he should be doing next, he knows it's what Dean would want, but he can't bring himself to give his brother the hunter's burial he deserves.

Walking around to the driver's side Sam climbs into the Impala, refusing to look at the back seat, instead angling his long legs and smashing his boots through the windshield, clearing the broken glass so he can see the road ahead.

Starting the engine, Sam steers the car down the driveway and back onto Centennial Highway. He drives slowly back to town, not wanting to attract the attention of any local cops because of the windshield. Not only is he covered in blood and ash, he doesn't think they'd be too impressed with the body in the back.

Arriving back at the motel, once parked, Sam rests his head against the steering wheel and tries unsuccessfully to reign in his emotions. Sobbing, he leans back and starts slamming his hands into the wheel.

"HEY" a rough voice starts, scaring Sam from his aggressive attack; he looks over and sees Dean sitting in the passenger seat.

"Baby didn't do anything to you"

"Dean!" Sam croaks out, his voice hoarse from the ash.

"Hey, little brother" Dean replies, a sad smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Sam reaches out to touch his brother, but his hand passes straight through Dean, causing his form to flicker. Pulling his hand back quickly, he finally looks over his shoulder and can see that Dean's body is still draped across the backseat.

"I'm sorry Sammy" Dean say's gently, drawing Sam's attention back to the passenger seat.

Still trying to find his voice, Sam can only stare at his older brother.

"Come on Sam, say something, you're freaking me out"

Disbelief wins out and Sam manages to splutter "Dude, you're a ghost and **I'm** freaking you out"

"Well what can I say, I may be dead but I'm still awesome" Dean shoots back, with his trademark grin.

Sam's head is spinning as he tries to make sense of the situation, trying his best to ignore the painful pounding in his chest.

"What happened to you Dean?" Sam asks, fully aware of how strained his voice sounds.

Dean turns away at this question, looking ahead as if trying to figure this out himself.

"Honestly man, I don't know. I came to town following Dad, he's been missing for a few weeks now and this was the last place I knew he was definitely headed. When I got here, it was clear there was a case so I followed the leads, did my research and ended up at that house. I found the graves and was about to finish the job, but that bitch got the jump on me. I felt the most intense pain of my life and the next thing I know I'm just standing there, looking down at my own body. That was a day ago. I was going out of my mind, trying to figure out how to leave that godforsaken dump, but I couldn't go far" Dean finishes his speech with a furtive glance at the backseat.

Sam's been staring at Dean since he appeared and notices that Dean's form flickers more and more during the last few minutes, whether it's from emotion or expended energy he doesn't know.

"I've just been sort of wandering around the place since yesterday, trying to finish what I started, but I haven't been able to move anything, so I couldn't burn the bones. Besides that Constance bitch didn't have the time of day for me, I hadn't even seen her again till you showed up" Dean continues, his eyes flashing to Sam's.

"When I saw her, standing over you like that, I guess something just kinda snapped inside me. I felt this anger rising up, I saw the shot-gun on the floor and I **knew** that I could pick it up. I knew I couldn't let her hurt you" his older brother finishes, almost whispering the last sentence.

Feeling the anguish rolling off his brother in waves, Sam finally composes himself enough to talk.

"Dean, I am so sorry I didn't get here sooner. This is all my fault, if I hadn't left you and Dad, if I'd just stayed in contact with you, none of this would've happened. I can't…" Sam say's, having to stop when his voice break and tears start streaming again.

"I don't blame you for anything that has happened Sam. It's a freaking miracle that you found me at all" Dean states.

Sam can see from his brother's expression that he hadn't wondered until now how Sam had actually found him.

"How…" Dean starts, but whatever he was about to say ends abruptly as he yet again vanishes in front of Sam.

A fresh wave of anger and frustration surge through Sam, and after several long minutes of waiting to see if Dean will reappear, Sam decides that he'd best move his brother into the motel room before anyone sees him. Thankfully it's still the middle of the night so Sam manages to retrieve Dean and gently place him on the motel bed, without anyone noticing.

Walking back to the Impala, he searches the trunk and finds a large sheet or tarpaulin. Once he has the windshield covered, he leans back into the car to grab Dean's bag. His eyes settle on a book in the rear foot well. With a short intake of breath, he realises what he's seeing; Dads journal.

Grabbing the book, Sam feels the first flicker of hope spreading through him. If there was anything that could save his brother it was most likely to be documented on these pages.

Walking back into the room he glances over at his brother's body. _Don't worry Dean, this time I'll save you,_ Sam thinks to himself as he closes the motel door.

 


	3. Chapter Three

 

 

Standing behind his little brother in their dad's motel room, Dean Winchester is freaking the hell out. It'd been a few hours since he managed to appear to Sam in the Impala and since then he hadn't been able to make Sam see him again. He can't decide what's worse; not being able to talk to Sam or the fact that his body is lying on the bed, just a few feet from where he now stands.

Looking over to the bed again, seeing himself,  _Yeah, that wasn't getting any less weird,_ Dean can't suppress the shudder that rolls through him.

"Come on, Sammy. You gotta hear me man" Dean say's anxiously, moving forward to wave his hands in front of his younger brothers face.

After talking with Sam in the Impala earlier, Dean had felt absolutely drained. Just manifesting in front of Sam and having the brief conversation had wiped out Deans reserves, but he'd slowly felt some energy creeping back through him.

Peering down at Sam, who is hunched over his laptop and their dad's journal at the small writing desk, Dean can see the worry and frustration that is etched into the younger man's features. He still doesn't know how Sam managed to find him in the first place, unless Dad had called him, but if that were the case then why hadn't Dad shown up to help him before the shit truly hit the fan.

He can't think of any other way Sam would've known how to find him, hoping Sam has some answers is just another reason he needs to get his crap together and try to get a handle on his visibility problems.

Sighing, Dean walks to stand in front of Sam. Closing his eyes and concentrating hadn't done jack so far, but considering he can't leave the room, he tries again. The last two times he had appeared had been a fluke, he'd wanted Sammy to see him but hadn't controlled it, so not knowing exactly what he is supposed to be doing is frustrating as Hell.

Concentrating all his thoughts and energy, Dean is praying to whoever will listen, that it works this time. Keeping his eyes firmly closed, he doesn't see Sam's shocked face when his older brother materialises from nothing, right in front of him. Dean does however hear a strangled gasp, and opens his eyes just in time to see Sam quickly jerk away and immediately topple back in the chair, hitting the floor with a thud.

"Ah shit, Sammy. Didn't mean to scare you" he says.

Without thinking he holds his arm out to help the younger man to his feet, Sam grabs onto the outstretched hand and as Dean begins to pull they both realise simultaneously that they can actually feel each other. When their eyes meet, the revelation causes Dean to break concentration and Sam hits the ground again with a grunt.

"Sorry Sam, still haven't quite got to grips with my situation. Heh, no pun intended" Dean say's grinning.

He quickly loses his smile when he realises that Sam is just staring at him, obviously in shock. He takes a few steps back to give his brother some space, Sam slowly gets to his feet, his blue-green eyes trained on Dean, clearly thinking that he might disappear again at any second.

"I felt you, Dean" Sam finally says, his voice shaking.

"I know, Sammy. I felt you too…and doesn't that just sound wrong!" Dean replies, smiling again, "Look, I don't know how long I can hold on this time, so back to business; How did you find me?"

Until this point, Sam hadn't taken his eyes off Dean, but now he was decidedly looking anywhere other than his big brother. Dean might not have seen Sam in a few years but he knew him better than anyone in the entire world, and with the way he was reacting to the simple question, he knew that his Dad hadn't called him.

"I, uh, I had a vision of you" Sam mumbles, quickly looking up to see Dean's response to this news.

"You had a what?!" Dean practically shouts, walking forward. Not noticing that Sam suddenly looks afraid or that there is condensation coming from his brother's mouth with every short breath.

"Dean, please calm down and I'll explain what I can" Sam say's, whilst slowly backing away.

Watching as his brother try to get away from him, scares Dean more than anything else that has happened to him in the last few days. Not even dying is more painful than the idea of Sam being frightened of him, as he finally notices Sam expression.

Dean walks to the other side of the room to give Sam more space and tries to control his voice before continuing.

"What do you mean, you had a vision?"

"I don't know, Dean. It came out of nowhere, I mean I've been having some pretty vivid dreams lately, but I was awake and it just hit me, literally knocked me on my ass. I saw you, here, in this town. I saw you on the bridge with Constance and I saw her attacking you. I didn't know if it was real or not, but I had this feeling something was really wrong and I had to find out for myself"

"So what, you have The Shining now?"

"I don't know what it was, but it didn't help, did it! I saw you, hurting, and tried everything I could to reach you in time, but I was still too late" Sam say's, tears in his eyes.

Dean can see the guilt on his brother face, and no matter how freaked out he is by what he's just learnt, he can't stand to see Sammy suffer for something that was out of his control.

"Ah Sam, come on, this wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have gone in alone on this one, I've been worried about Dad and I guess I wasn't thinking straight. It's my fault that this ended the way it did. I'm just glad that I got to see you one more time. I want you to know that I'm sorry that I haven't called in the last few years, I've had your number dialled so many times, but I just couldn't go through with it. That's my one regret, Sammy, but I want you to know that I am proud of you."

"Dean, please don't talk like that. You're not going anywhere, so don't start saying your goodbyes"

"What are you talking about?" Dean asks, but he knows as soon as the sentence is out that he's used his energy up and feels himself fade out of Sam's view.

_FUCK!_

"Dean!" Sam shouts, scanning the room.

"I know you're still here Dean, but don't worry, I'm going to fix this"

He can't do anything but watch as Sam grabs his coat and heads out the door. Replaying what his brother had just said about him 'not going anywhere' Dean walks over to the open laptop and the journal lying beside it.

His green eyes widen as he reads through the article Sam has left open on the screen. Fear and anger course through him as he thinks of the repercussions of what his younger brother is planning to do. Hearing the Impala roar to life outside, Dean scrambles for the front door, but his hand passes through the door handle.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

 

* * *

 

 

Pulling the Impala over, Sam runs through his plan again. Looking at the supplies he has gathered in the empty passenger seat he feels sure that he hasn't missed anything, reaching over he retrieves the items and steps out of the car. By some miracle he hadn't been pulled over for driving around without a windshield, the tarpaulin currently lying across the rear seats.

Walking forward to stand in the middle of the crossroads, Sam raises a hand to cover his eyes from the bright sun and checks to make sure that there isn't anyone else around, thankfully he can't see another person or vehicle along the long stretches.

Hunching down he places the items on the floor and opens a small square tin he'd found in the back of the Impala. After placing the spell ingredients inside, along with a photo of himself, he sets to work digging a shallow hole. Once enough gravel and soil has been displaced he lowers the tin into the hole and using his hands drags the loose dirt, covering the box completely.

Stepping back from the buried item, Sam immediately starts looking expectantly for the crossroads demon to appear.

"Hello there, Handsome. What can I do for you?" a sultry female voice say's behind him

Spinning around, Sam automatically reaches for the gun tucked into his waist band. Raising the firearm, he knows that it can't kill her, but it might be able to stop her long enough if this doesn't go the way he's hoping.

The woman standing in front of him could be considered beautiful by almost any standard; young, tall with pale milky skin, black hair and full red lips. The glowing red eyes were the only clue to the demonic presence residing inside the woman's body.

Not lowering his gun, he looks her dead in the eye and tries to show confidence in his voice that he doesn't feel.

"I'm here to make a deal".

The demons eyes crawl over Sam and he has to stop himself from shaking with disgust, he can't let anything stop his chances of making a deal to save Dean.

"Well, well, well. Little Sammy Winchester wants to make a deal, huh?" What would Daddy have to say about this?"

Sam tries to stop the surprise he feels from showing on his face, he hadn't anticipated on her knowing who he is.

"Don't look so shocked Sammy, I know all about you and yours. Word travels fast downstairs, condolences about Dean. Too bad, so sad" the demon says, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

"Guessing that's why you're here too" she says

"Can you do it? Can you bring him back?" Sam asks his words clipped with barely concealed fury.

"Well now Sammy, that all depends"

"On what!" he growls.

"On you. See, normally I'd be offering you ten years before I came to collect, but I know what you Winchester boys are like and in all honestly I don't see you living that long. Plus I don't particularly want to spend the next decade cleaning up after you. So here's what I will offer you, one year. One long year in which you get to say your goodbyes and Dean can live happily ever after. Or as happy as he can get knowing baby brother is going to spend eternity in The Pit"

Sam feels like he's been punched in the gut….one year. One single year to say goodbye to all the people he loves and cares about. To tell Dean he's the best big brother anyone could ever ask for, to thank him for practically raising him and being his best friend. To Dad, to apologise for the way they left things and tell him he really does love him. To Bobby, Pastor Jim, Caleb…

To Jess. Oh god Jess.

The vision hits him like a ton of bricks, he loses grip of his gun and crashes to the ground. Images scorch through his mind, of Jess in their apartment, her in bed with a dark figure watching and finally, Jess pinned to the ceiling, just like their Mom so many years before, silently screaming as flames erupt around her.

Rolling on the ground, Sam can't do anything but hold onto his head and wait for the worst to pass. When the blinding agony begins to fade into a migraine, Sam manages to open his eyes, gasping in pain as the bright sunlight sends shooting pains through his head.

His thoughts are a tangled mess as he tries to determine what he just saw, and he begins to feel the fear and panic clawing his mind at the thought of anything happening to Jess.

A voice says something, but it sounds so far away that he can't understand what was said.

Unsteadily climbing to his feet, keeping his eyes narrowed he sees the demon slowly backing away from him.

"What?" Sam says groggily.

"I said what the hell are you!"

Sam focuses on her face and can see she looks terrified. Confusion laces his thoughts as to why she should look so scared of him but before he can ask she speaks again.

"To hell with this. This is above my pay grade. No deal, Sammy" and without giving him a chance to reply, vanishes from the crossroads leaving Sam alone, frightened and confused.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean is climbing the walls of the little motel room. Knowing Sam is out there, doing something stupid and dangerous, just to help him is driving him mad with worry. He's supposed to be the one to protect his brother, not the other way around. He's tried dozens of times to leave the room but with his body tying him to Earth he can't get further than the door. Whilst Sam has been gone he has been practicing moving objects around the room and is pleased with the success he's been experiencing, grimly thinking about the fun he could have with an unsuspecting motel maid.

The hours pass painfully slow and just as he's about to seriously contemplate attempting to drag his body out of the room he hears his cars unmistakable rumble pull up outside.

Dean scrambles for the window and looks out to see Sammy sitting in the driver's seat looking absolutely lost. More than that, he looks broken. Dean feels some of the anger that's been building dissipate, seeing his younger brother look so forlorn, he knows that the crossroads demon couldn't have made him a deal. Plus the fact that he's still Caspar's incredibly better looking cousin.

He watches as Sam clambers out of the car and start walking back to the room, his shoulders slumped with utter defeat. Concentrating his energy Dean wills himself back into Sam's plain of vision just as he younger brother walks through the door.

Dean wants to start yelling at his brother but from the dazed and pained expression on Sam's face he can't bring himself to.

"Sammy, man, what did you do?"

Dean feels panic rising through him as Sam walks forward without responding and sits heavily on the vacant bed.

"You're scaring me here. Come on please say something"

After Sam still doesn't respond Dean starts to wonder whether he had materialised or not, when suddenly the younger man's eyes sweep up to meet his. Sam's normal, soulful eyes are red rimmed and puffy and Dean knows instantly that something terrible has happened.

"Sam, answer me. What the hell did you do? I know you went to a crossroads so don't even think about fucking lying to me! What happened?" Dean asks, regretting how forcefully he spoke to his brother immediately.

Dean can see the effort it takes for Sam to compose himself long enough to utter a few short words.

"She's gone, Dean" tears falling from his eyes.

A disarray of thoughts whip through Deans mind but he knows there is only one woman that could affect his brother so much. Whilst he hasn't seen Sam since he left, finding it too painful to see his little brother enjoying life without him, his Dad had been to Stanford a few times over the last few years and Dean knows full well that Sam is living with his girlfriend, a cute blonde named Jessica. For one horrible moment Dean wonders if Sam made a deal for him that involved Jessica, but brushes it aside knowing his brother would never do that.

"If I'm going to help, I need more than that Sammy. Tell me everything"

Drawing in a shaky breath Sam begins to relay to Dean what happened since he left a few hours earlier. Dean listens wordlessly as Sam recounts his meeting with the demon. He feels the shock show on his face as Sam tells him about his latest visions involving Jessica. All the while Sam is talking Dean struggles to control is anger, knowing that he almost loses it a few times when he finds out the similarities between what happened to Jessica in Sam's vision and what happened to their Mom.

"And then the demon, she looked at me like she was…like she was scared, Dean. She actually asked me what I was and then she basically ran away."

"She ran away?" Dean asks incredulously,  _well that's a new one_ , he thinks. Even with this worrying information, he is beyond relieved that Sam didn't get chance to make a deal.

"What did you mean when you said, 'She's gone', cos I'm guessing you're not referring to the demon?"

"Jess is gone, Dean. I tried calling a dozen times since the crossroads demon vanished and she hasn't answered once. I couldn't save you when I got the first vision and now I've lost Jess too"

Feeling his anger finally spilling over, Dean rounds on his brother.

"Wait a fucking minute. You think she's gone just because she hasn't answered the phone? Hell, she's probably in class Sammy!"

"You don't get it Dean, I saw you dying and that's exactly what happened, so if she isn't answering then it's obviously happened to her too!"

"For someone who is supposed to be so smart, you are a fucking moron sometimes. Now listen to me, for all we know Jess is absolutely fine, but we won't know for sure until we go and find out. We can't drive all the way to Palo Alto with a busted windshield, so why don't you go and try to get that fixed whilst I take care of some things here"

For the first time since Sam had got back, Dean could see some hope in his brothers' eyes and he was praying with all he had that it wouldn't be crushed again as soon as they reached California.

"Dean…I…thank you. I was just so scared when she didn't answer and after all that happened to you, I couldn't help but think the worst" Sam says, his voice already sounding steadier.

"I get it Sammy, don't worry, but we gotta move now. I think I've got the energy to pack everything in here up, but try not to take too long"

Dean can tell from the way Sam is looking at him that he's trying to work something out and when his eyes flash over to the other bed where his body is lying he knows what he's thinking.

"Umm, Dean. How are you going to come to Palo Alto with me? I mean even once the Impala is fixed there is no way we can take your, uh, uh…you with us in the car"

"I'll figure something out Sam, just go get my car fixed so we can get the hell out of here. I'm really getting sick of these walls, man"

 

* * *

 

 

After Sam leaves to find the nearest garage Dean focuses on stuffing all his dads crap into the duffle bags he has stored under the bed. It doesn't take long to clear the room and after a final sweep he turns his attention to the occupied bed.

Dean thinks of every salt and burn they have ever been on and finally feels a small measure of relief when he recalls the times that the spirits have been tethered to an item rather than their bodies. Finding the resolve to do what needs to be done takes a few minutes, but he gathers the strength to walk over to his still and lifeless body.

Whilst looking at himself is by far the strangest experience he's ever encountered, when he reaches down to tug up the hems of his jeans he feels physically faint. After recovering the knife from his boots Dean leans over and gingerly removes his amulet from around his neck, ignoring how cold and stiff his body is.

Taking a deep breath he slices the blade over the exposed skin on his forearm, taking the necklace he gently rubs the charm across the wound ensuring that a small amount of blood is smeared on the brass idol.

_I hope this fucking works_ , he thinks clenching the amulet tightly in his fist, walking eagerly towards the door.

Turning the handle he draws a breath and then takes a step forward, releasing a small cry of victory and a lot of pent up frustration when he realises he's actually standing outside.

 

* * *

 

 

It takes a few hours for Sam to get back with the Impala and as soon as the car is parked Dean makes his way over to inspect his baby. Staying invisible he runs his eyes over the windshield with practiced eyes, pleased that the local mechanic has done an acceptable job. As Sam climbs out of the car, Dean stands as close as he can to his brother and after checking that no one else is around, lets himself become visible, enjoying the strangled yelp the younger man emits.

"Dean! You scared the crap outta me!" Sam gripes.

"Sorry Sammy, couldn't help myself" he replies grinning.

"Dude, your outside" Sam says finally noticing the fact Dean is no longer in the motel room.

"Told you I'd figure it out"

Taking the bloodied amulet from his pocket, Dean holds it up to show Sam, seeing understanding spread across his face.

"I cleared the room, but we have to figure out what to do with my body. We could bury me for now, until you have the chance to come back and send me off to the great unknown"

"I'm not going to salt and burn you, Dean. I'm still going to figure out a way to save you."

"You gotta be realistic, Sam. I will not allow you to sell your soul for me and I can't stay here for ever. I'm not going anywhere until we know Jess is safe but we have to talk about this again at some point"

"Yeah, alright"

"I mean it, Sammy"

"I said alright!"

Not entirely convinced Dean decides to drop the issue for now and concentrate on the task on hand. Glancing around he's relieved to see the parking lot is still empty and knowing that Sam will follow heads back into the room.

A few hours later Sam is behind the wheel of the Impala and Dean is sitting in the passenger seat, looking longingly at the steering wheel. Dean's eyes wander over his brother taking in his tired appearance and his dirt caked clothes. Having just buried himself in the local cemetery, albeit slightly off the beaten path, was not something that he has ever expected to do, but at least his body would be safe whilst they went to California to ensure Jessica was alive.

He's still concerned about Sam's refusal to acknowledge what needs to be done in the coming days, but has to admit to himself that he's glad to be back on the road with his brother and not shuffling completely off the mortal coil.

As Sam puts his foot down on the gas, Dean can't help but wonder exactly what they'll find when they reach Palo Alto, sending up a silent prayer that they reach Jess in time.


	4. Chapter Four

The drive to Palo Alto is quiet and tense, with the miles slipping past in a colorful blur. From his position in the passenger seat Dean is starting to wonder whether there will be permanent dents in the steering wheel from Sam’s iron grip, his knuckles alabaster white in comparison to the California tan that Sammy definitely didn’t have the last time they were together.

For the majority of the journey he has been incorporeal, after a brief discussion between the brothers it had been decided that Dean should conserve his energy for when they arrive, due to not knowing what circumstances await them.

Being invisible to his brother is more advantageous than Dean had initially expected, silently glad that Sam couldn’t see the worried expression he knew he was having trouble hiding, and his concern was beginning to hitch up a notch every time Sam pulled out his cell. He’d been repeatedly trying to call Jessica whilst en route but still hadn’t got anything more than her voicemail. After leaving Jess some increasingly confusing messages, he’d tried someone else called Brady but hadn’t had any luck with that number either, leaving another message to call him back urgently.

When they finally reached their destination, Sam is out of the Impala before it has completely stopped and Dean has to quickly become visible to restrain Sam from running head first into the apartment complex.

“Dean, what the hell” Sam exclaims, struggling against the hold on his shirt.

“Will you stop for half a goddamned second? We have no idea what to expect and there’s no way you’re going in there unarmed” Dean growls out in reply, releasing his grip on Sam.

Making sure he had his brother attention Dean walked around to the trunk, looking at Sam expectantly. Huffing out a frustrated sigh, Sam quickly joins his brother and unlocks the trunk, grabbing his favored Taurus 9mm, which Dean had always refused to let his Dad use after Sam left for Stanford. Slipping the pistol into the back of his jeans, Sam stuffs some holy water vials into his jacket pocket and a small bag of salt for good measure. Nodding his approval, Dean closes the trunk and motions for Sam to lead the way.

Climbing the short set of stairs, Sam pulls his key out of his pocket, but just before sliding the key into the door, Dean again reaches out to stop his brother.

“Try and stay calm, Sammy. I’m going to go Invisible Girl, but I’ll be right behind you” he whispers.

Receiving a slight nod as affirmation, Dean lets himself disappear. He watches as Sam quietly unlocks his front door and slips into his apartment, allowing time for Dean to enter before soundlessly closing the door. Dean surveys the apartment with practiced eyes, despite not being here previously he’s been on enough hunts to recognize anything that looks out of place no matter whose house it is.

Taking in the brightly lit home, he feels a short burst of envy for the life Sam has created for himself here. The living area is simple but comfortable, there are a couple of worn couches and shelves full of books; it feels warm and inviting. Wondering whether it’s Sam or Jessica’s influence, he can tell either way that it seems his brother has really started to adapt to a normal life.

After doing a sweep of the main living area, and realizing Sam is doing the same, he begins to move forward towards what he assumes is the bedroom. Ensuring that despite what he said about being “right behind” his brother, he’s in fact a step or two ahead. Reasoning to himself, that it’s not like he’s going to get killed again and he’s not letting anything happen to Sammy whilst he’s still around to help it.

Approaching the closed door, Dean can’t help the trepidation that he’s feeling. Glancing over his shoulder he can see Sam peer into the kitchen but no relief is evident on his face. Sam moves through the apartment and whether he can sense Dean standing there or not, stops right beside him.

Before Sam can twist the handle Dean glides through the door, really appreciating his new ability for the first time. Standing firmly inside the room, concentrating he wedges his foot against the frame so Sam can’t open the door. Using the brief time he has before Sam’s annoyingly larger body crashes through the door Dean quickly studies the room but thankfully can’t see anything sinister, moving away from the door Sam stumbles through, muttering about the door jamb being stiff and not suspecting Dean for a moment. Making himself become visible once again, Dean walks over to stand beside his brother.

Just as Dean is about to mention that there aren’t any signs of a struggle here, there is a loud bang from the living room. Dean sees Sam instinctively reach for his gun and has it sighted in the direction of the noise, storming forward with confident movements that only years of being taught by John Winchester can instill.

Following his brother, Dean walks back into the large living room in time to see Sam quickly hiding his gun from view of a very shocked looking Jessica.

“Sam?” Jess manages to gasp, her eyes darting between Sam and Dean.

Sam stealthily returns the gun to his waistband, and surges forward to catch Jess in what Dean can only imagine is a very painful hug.

“Jess, thank god” he mutters, still not letting her out of his embrace.

After this carries on for a while longer than comfortable, Dean can’t help but cough into his hand, hearing the noise two pairs of eyes snap to meet his and the moment ends.

Jess brings her gaze back to Sam and Dean sure is glad not to be on the receiving end of that particular look.

“What is going on? You scared me half to death! And who is this” she finishes, angrily gesturing at Dean.

“Uh, Jess this is my brother Dean, Dean this is Jess” Sam stutters somewhat awkwardly, but his face is shining with unconcealed relief.

Whilst Jess still looks angry and tense, her politeness wins out as she moves forward, arm outstretched to take Dean’s hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Dean” she says, with a small smile.

Holding out his hand, he begins to come out with some cheesy line but stops when he notices the look of confusion then terror that plays across Jess’s face. Looking down he slowly realizes he wasn’t concentrating properly and his hand has just passed straight through Jessica’s.

Bringing his eyes back up to meet Jess’s, he only has a second to shout his brother’s name before she feints, collapsing backwards into Sam’s arms.

 

* * *

 

 

The relief Sam feels when he sees Jess standing in their living room is so overwhelming that he almost forgets to quickly hide the gun from her sight. Sending a silent thanks to his Dad, for the years of training he received to be an expert at rapidly hiding weapons from civilian eyes. He’s not entirely sure how he would’ve explained that particular issue to Jess.

He still doesn’t feel entirely convinced that it’s really Jess in front of him until he has her in a tight hug and takes a deep breath, inhaling the amazing smell that always surrounds her.

It feels like he’s only holding her for a few short seconds before Dean feels it necessary to make his presence known, with a sharp cough.

Jess looks at Dean and then brings her gaze back up to Sam, who if wasn’t so relieved would be concerned about how angry she looks.

He’s barely paying attention to her words but gets the gist when she gesture towards Dean. Sam has told Jess about his brother a few times, and had secretly hoped they would meet one day. He just wished the circumstances were different. He briefly introduces the two of them before she leaves his side to shake Dean’s hand. His brother has his typical ladies’ man smile plastered on his face, but it quickly drops as Sam sees Deans eyes flick down and then back up to Jess’s eyes.

“Sam!”

He watches Jess sway slowly on her feet before rushing forwards to catch her as she collapses.

“What the hell did you do?” Sam barks at his brother as he gently moves Jess to lay her on the couch.

“Shit, Sammy. I wasn’t concentrating, her hand passed straight through me” he replies, looking justifiably guilty.

“Fantastic” Sam grinds out. How the hell is he going to explain this to Jess.

“What are you going to tell her?” Dean asks, obviously thinking the same thing.

“I honestly don’t know. The truth I guess, not really much use denying _that_ just happened.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a great idea, Sammy” he replies with a sigh.

Sam looks at his older brother in time to see a dark expression pass over his features, he can’t describe it completely, but it’s something caught between anger and regret.

“Well, what do you suggest then, huh? Because you don’t know Jess like I do and she is not going to let this go”

“Okay, okay” Dean says, raising his hands in a placating gesture, “But if your latest visions are anything like the ones about me, I think it might be wise to move this conversation somewhere not here”

“Yeah, uh, let me just grab some of Jess’s clothes” he replies.

Walking into their bedroom, he quickly reaches under the bed and pulls out a small duffle. Moving to the drawers he rummages through and stuffs in a few days’ worth of clothes and underwear before zipping up the bag.

Catching his brother’s eye, he throws the duffle at Dean who easily catches it and Sam moves around to collect Jess, sparing a moment to marvel at how peaceful she looks and wishing more than anything that he could keep that expression on her face forever.

 

* * *

 

 

Forty five minutes later they are across town in a reasonably priced but generally run down motel room. Parking the Impala close to the room, they had managed to get Jess into the room without raising any eyebrows. Sam reflects that with the amount of time he’s spent moving unconscious bodies to and from the Impala these last few days, it’s a miracle that he’s not currently locked up.

After a brief inspection of the sheets, Sam gently places Jess on the bed.

Sam thinks back over the last couple of hours and his mind keeps coming back to the look Dean had when they had discussed what to tell Jess when she wakes up. Just as he is about to bring it back up with his brother, a small noise from the bed grabs his attention in time to see Jess’s eyelids flutter open.

“Dean, go” Sam hisses, and thankfully his brother catches his intentions immediately and disappears before Jess sees him again.

“Sam?” Jess asks weakly, sitting up slowly. Her eyes are wide and confused as she realizes they’re no longer in their apartment.

“Where are we?” her voice trembles at the question.

Stepping forward, he takes a seat next to her on the bed and grasps her smaller hand in his. She must replay what happened with Dean in her mind, as she looks down and stares at their entwined fingers.

“Listen Jess, I know you’re going to have a lot of questions and you’re probably very scared right now, but there are some things I need to tell you. About me, my family and about the world we live in.”

She brings her gaze back up, and Sam is momentarily consumed with a rush of love when rather than running straight for the door she gives a small nod and waits for him to continue. He huffs a sigh of relief, rubs a hand over his face and then begins to tell the only woman he has ever loved everything he prayed he’d never have to tell her.

 

* * *

 

 

When Dean had tried to tell Cassie, the first woman he actually thought he might love, the true details of his life she had accused him of being crazy, but over the course of the next few hours Dean begins to understand exactly what it is about Jess that Sam fell for.

Taking a seat on a ratty looking chair, close to where the couple is sitting on the bed. Dean listens as Sam recounts the story of their lives so far, talking her through their family history, their life on the road and how they work as Hunters protecting innocent people from everything that goes bump in the night.

At any minute Dean expects Jess to get up and run screaming from the room, but she listens intently to the entire tale, with a calm open expression, only interrupting now and again with a question that Sam always answers in his gentlest voice. Finally Sam reaches the events of the last week including how he’d arrived too late to save Dean, but explains how in some instances spirits can linger until they find closure.

_Not to mention the blood soaked amulet resting in my pocket_ Dean thinks to himself.

He also notes that in all Sam’s honesty until this point, his brother still skims around the visions he’s had of Dean and Jess, which Dean supposes is fair. In all the crazy that Jess has just been introduced to, Sam obviously doesn’t want her looking at him like he’s a freak too…which brings about Jess’s next question.

“Dean is a ghost?” she asks, glancing anxiously around the motel room, like he was going to shout BOO right in her face.

“For now, yes, but I am going to do whatever I can to fix this” Sam states, looking pointedly at the ground, like he knows that Deans eyes are currently drilling holes into his head.

“There are people out there, people like my Dad or our Uncle Bobby who can help, there has to be a way”

Jess draws in a long shaky breath and looks Sam in the eyes.

“Okay, I may be crazy, but after what I’ve seen today….I believe you”

Dean hadn’t known how tense he was until this statement, and he releases a long sigh. Unfortunately he must’ve breathed out harder than he expected because suddenly Jess shivers and looks in the direction of where he is sitting.

“He’s here with us, isn’t he?” Jess asks.

“Uh, yeah, I think so. Do you want to meet him….again?”

“Of course” she replies, a tentative smile playing across her face.

Without waiting for his brother to ask Dean shifts back into their plane of vision and tries not to react to the sharp gasp Jess makes when she sees him sitting close by.

“Hey” he says, with a small smile.

“You heard everything?” Sam questions.

“I did, and I gotta say Jess, you took that all shockingly well. Beautiful and smart; you are way out of my brothers’ league” he says with a smile.

“Well it’s hard to ignore your hand passing straight through another person” she replies easily.

“Yeah, sorry about that” Dean says rubbing at his neck, smile dropping away.

“Don’t apologize. I’m sorry this has happened to you, Dean. I know I am brand new to all of this, but if Sam thinks there is a way to fix…whatever this is, then please know that I’ll do whatever I can to help you too”

Sam puts his arm around Jess’s shoulder and gently squeezes her in thanks, both of them looking at Dean.

“Damn, you two aren’t going to let me rest in peace are you” he says with a small chuckle.

“Never” Sam confidently replies.

“Okay” Jess say’s pushing off the bed. “Now…can someone tell me what we’re doing in a motel room?”

Dean exchanges an anxious glance with his brother, who gently dips his head towards the door. Climbing to his feet, he spares one more look at Sam before opening the door, just before closing it, he hears Sam say “So, I guess I should probably tell you how I found Dean”

Jess has taken everything in stride so far, Dean hopes that she can accept this as well.

He then wonders whether he can accept it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would really appreciate any feedback - anything you like, don't like, suggestions. This is my first fanfic, so all comments, positive or negative, are welcome.


	5. Chapter Five

Roughly twenty minutes pass before Dean is called back into the motel room they are currently occupying, and whilst Sam looks tired and grim, it’s Jess that Dean is more interested in appraising. Far from the scared or disgusted expression he had been expecting, Jess is looking at Sam with something more akin to reverence. His respect for the pretty blonde is steadily increasing.

Taking a seat on the vacant bed, Dean shifts his eyes between Sam and Jess, waiting for someone to break the silence.

“So…my boyfriend is psychic and his brother’s a ghost. Well, if I have to say one thing about Winchester men, you sure keep things interesting!” Jess says a small smile quirking at her lips.

“But what now? I mean if Sam’s uh, visions are reliable we can’t go back to our apartment, not after what he’s seen” she continues, looking at Sam.

“Well other than keeping you safe, I think the next step is to look into Dean’s…situation and don’t look at me like that Dean”

Trying to wipe the grimace off his face, Dean settles for huffing, crossing his arms and sending his brother his best impersonation of bitch face.

“As long as Jess is with us, she’s safe and in case you’ve forgotten there is a time limit on trying to find a way to fix you” Sam states.

“What do you mean?” he asks

“Well unless you wanna be walking around looking like a Thriller video reject, I’d say we’d better get moving on this sooner rather than later.”

Scrunching his face at the idea of his body slowly decomposing, he can’t help but agree with Sam. He wants to insist on concentrating on getting Jess to somewhere safe as a priority, but the thought of climbing back into a half rotted meat suit is not something he wishes to experience. And that’s if they can even figure a way to get him back in the first place.

“Okay”

“Dean- wait, Okay?”

Dean looks over at his younger brother and watches in amusement as Sam’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He can tell that Sam was gearing up for a fight and that he’s thrown at Dean’s easy acceptance.

“You’re right. Jess is better off with us, even if I can’t do much more than yell Boo right now, but I’m getting better at controlling this. But, with Dad missing and these visions you’re having, we need more information than we currently have access to”

Understanding lights up Sam’s eyes and a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Bobby’s?” he asks

“Who better to ask than that old coot. He might even know where Dad is,” Dean replies.

“Bobby? You said he’s your uncle, right?” Jess asks, eyes swinging between the brothers.

“He’s not related to us, but he’s damn near the closest thing to family we have other than Dad” Sam explains.

“And he’s a freaking genius when it comes to monsters and lore. If anyone knows more about the supernatural than Bobby Singer, we’ve yet to meet ‘em”

With a plan of action Dean feels steadier than he has in days; he stands and claps his hands together, making Sam and Jess flinch at the sudden noise.

“Let’s go dig up my sexy self and haul ass to South Dakota” he says with a smile.

 

* * *

 

 

After collecting Dean’s body from the thankfully undisturbed grave and rearranging the trunk, the next day is spent driving the long distance to Sioux Falls, stopping only for food and restroom breaks.

It’d had taken some cajoling from Sam, but Dean had finally relented and allowed Jess behind the wheel of his beloved Baby, so they could take turns sleeping and make better time.

He’d watched her like a hawk for the first hour or so, but finally relaxed when he saw the care and concentration she held when taking her turn, with Sam snoring gently in the back seat. It didn’t hurt that she seemed completely content to listen to his tapes, without mentioning once changing to the radio. After hearing her softly humming along to Metallica he decided that his brother really couldn’t have done much better than Jess, he just wished they could’ve met under better circumstances.

Over the course of the journey Dean had been constantly visible, glad that he seems to be better at handling his energy issues. Whilst not sure why he’s not draining his energy as quick, he sure isn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Sam is back behind the wheel as they finally cross the state line into South Dakota and before long he’s pulling into the salvage yard, which was the closest thing they had to a home growing up.

Just seeing the cars and ramshackle house brings back happy memories to Dean, remembering the first time Bobby let him practice with a gun when he was 9, shooting out the windows on an old heap of junk car, not knowing that his Dad had already taken him out shooting two years previous. Or the time, when he was fifteen, Bobby gave him his first beer after helping work on some cars all afternoon.

Once Sam has parked the Impala in front of Bobby’s old Ford tow-truck, he turns around to gently wake Jess.

Dean exits the car and glances up at the front window, in time to see a curtain in the front room fall back into place. Sam has woken Jess and they are both walking towards the front door, feeling trepidation at how Bobby will react to this latest turn of events has Dean dragging his heels.

Before Sam has chance to knock Bobby has flung the door wide open and looks at them, clearly evaluating the situation. Sam and Jess stand close together, with Dean hovering behind.

“What have you two idjits done this time?” he demands, in his gruff familiar voice, his ever present baseball cap resting on his head.

“Good to see you too, Bobby” Dean quips.

“Good to see me? You boys wouldn’t be here if ya weren’t neck deep in a pile a crap, so don’t give me none of that. And who’s this? He asks, gesturing at Jess.

“I’m Jessica Moore, Mr Singer. It’s a pleasure to meet you” Jess says, stretching her hand out to Bobby.

Dean can see the way Bobby looks between Jess and Sam, before extending his own arm.

“Mr Singer was my daddy, its Bobby to you. You the girl Sam’s been shacking up with at Stanford?”

Jess lets out a short laugh at this, whilst Sam shoots daggers at Bobby.

“Yes, that would be me” she replies, smiling.

“Well, it’s good to meet ya, even if you are here with these two. So, you planning on standing there all night or you gonna get your asses in the house?”

Jess probably won’t have noticed, but after years of laying down salt every night Dean spotted the white line covering the threshold the minute Bobby had opened the door.

“Sammy, why don’t you take Jess to the guestroom? I need to talk to Bobby.” Dean says with a significant look at the salt line on the floor.

Sam glances down and understanding is clear in his expression. He passes the keys to the Impala back to Dean.

“Sure, I’ll get her settled and be back down in a few”

Dean retreats back down the steps and walks back towards the Impala, knowing that Bobby will follow.

“Boy, you better get to telling me what’s going on” Bobby barks

“Yeah, okay Bobby, hold your horses. Firstly have you heard from my Dad lately?”

“John? Hell I haven’t heard from him in over a year. He knows better than to call or show his face around here”

“Right” Dean replies, the last bit of hope drifting away.

“Well, I guess I’ll start at the beginning then”

He spends the next ten minutes, telling Bobby everything about John being missing, Dean following him to Jericho, right up to the point of him finding the Welch Residence, stopping there as Sam heads out of the house to re-join them.

“Jess is asleep, I’ve set us up in the guestroom” Sam says when he reaches them.

“Okay. I gotta say this is all fascinating Dean, but I’m failing to see what made you drag your brother and his girlfriend outta college over to my little slice of heaven”

Dean shares a look with his brother before huffing a nervous breath.

“Okay Bobby, well things didn’t go so great at the Welch house.”

“Whaddya mean ‘didn’t go great’?” he asks, casting a worrying look at both brothers.

Dean walks to the rear of the Impala and opens the trunk. Bobby follows him round and looking suitably confused, glances into the trunk.

Hating that he has to bring this problem to a man he loves like a father, Dean feels an overwhelming level of guilt crash through him as Bobby realises exactly what he’s looking at.

“Oh, Dean. What in God’s name happened?”

Feeling utterly overwhelmed, Dean tries his hardest to control his emotions but one look at the crushed expression of Bobby’s face, his resolve cracks and he vanishes from their view.

“Balls!”

 

* * *

 

Watching his brother reveal the contents of the Impala to Bobby, Sam was expecting this outcome. Dean did seem to have a better handle on staying visible, but Sam had noticed that when his brother became particularly agitated or upset that he loses control quickly.

Reaching over he gently closes the trunk, to stop Bobby’s continuous staring at the body of the eldest Winchester son, since Dean had disappeared.

The action jolts Bobby from his thoughts and his eyes quickly zero in on Sam.

“Well that explains why he wouldn’t come in the house, the salt. He really is dead then?”

“Yeah, Bobby. We really need your help.” Sam tiredly replies.

“Ya think! Damn Boy, why didn’t you call me sooner! Don’t answer that – I’m guessing there’s more to this story, so firstly let’s get your damn fool of a brother down to the basement. It’s coldest down there, and till we can find a solution to this mess we need to delay the natural process as much as we can”

Opening the Impala once again, Sam gently rearranges the blanket around Deans body so that neither Bobby or himself have to be visually reminded of who they are carrying. When they reach the front door, they pause so Bobby can wipe his foot through the salt, breaking the line.

As they begin the somewhat awkward descent down the basement stairs, Sam notices the usually stoic older man actually looks visibly upset; something he can’t ever recall seeing before.

Once they have Deans body secured in the driest, coldest area of the basement, Sam follows Bobby back up to the kitchen and is grateful to be handed a beer.

Taking a seat on a creaky old chair, Sam takes a deep drag on his beer and wonders how best to tell Bobby how he came to find Dean.

“I can see the gears whirring in that head of yours, Sam. I hate to disappoint ya, but after your brothers little vanishing act, I doubt anything you’ve got to tell me is going to trump that.”

Letting out a small laugh, Sam looks up at Bobby.

“Well I don’t want to let you down. Dean didn’t come find me and Jess at Stanford, Bobby. I found him. I had a vision he was in trouble”

“You want to run that by me again” Bobby says, looking incredulous.

“I had a vision. I saw him in trouble and I knew, I just knew, that I had to find him as soon as I could. Of course, I still arrived too late”

“You did everything you could, Sammy” says a voice behind them both.

Sam looks sharply over to see his brother rematerialize next to Bobby. Dean’s sudden reappearance startles the older man, who loses his grip on the beer bottle he is holding.

Seeing the bottle careen towards the floor Dean flings out his hand as if to grab it. It takes all three men a few seconds to register that the bottle didn’t explode glass shards all over the linoleum. Sam looks at Dean, assuming the bottle will be firmly in his hand, but instead is shocked to see it hovering about a foot off the ground, but clearly not in Dean’s hand, which is still outstretched towards it.

Taking in the stunned expression on his elder brother’s face, which has paled to the point of being impossibly white, Sam slowly eases himself off the chair and takes a step towards Dean.

The movement must snap his concentration as the bottle then resumes its course and smashes all over the floor, Bobby jumps back to avoid the spillage.

“Well that’s new” Dean says, clearly shaken.

Bobby looks Dean up and down appraisingly, who is clearly uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

“What Bobby? Why you looking at me like that?”

“Boy, how many ghosts have you hunted over the years?”

“Hell if I know, not like we kept count.” Dean replies.

“Probably over a hundred” Sam adds, as he moves to get the dustpan.

“When was the last time either of you saw a days old ghost, not showing any signs of anger or grief, use telekinesis? It aint normal, well as normal as any of this crap gets. Dean, you should be having trouble staying visible, let alone controlling objects without touching them”

Bending down to gather sharp glass shards from the floor, Sam thinks back on the last few days and how Dean had gotten much better at controlling his energy to stay visible nearly permanently.

What changed? He thinks to himself, going through each day they’ve been back together. After dumping the broken bottle in the trash, Sam turns to look at his brother and realises the answer was looking them in the face.

“Huh. Thinking about it Dean, you’ve had more energy and control since you tied yourself to your amulet”

All three of them look down at the ever present golden idol around his neck, and Sam notes that Dean also puts his hand into his pocket where the real version rests.

“You tethered yourself to the amulet?” Bobby asks.

“It’s the only thing I had that would be easy to carry.”

“I got that necklace from you, Bobby. What do you know about it?” Sam asks, still looking at the amulet.

“The woman who sold it to me said it was a powerful protective charm, but other than that not much”

“Do you think you any of your books might mention it?”

“Well it’s about time we start trying to figure out how to get this fool back in his meat suit” Bobby says gesturing at Dean, “Might as well try and find out anything we can on the necklace while we’re at it”.

Running his hand through his hair, Sam moves towards the door.

“Right. I’m just going to check on Jess, then I’ll join you in the study” Sam says, already looking forward to reading Bobby’s ancient book collection. It’s been a long time since he’s trawled through those books, doing research for his Dad.

Walking from the kitchen, Sam quietly ascends the stairs not wanting to wake Jess. Peering in through the slightly cracked door he can see her sound asleep on the bed, golden hair fanning out around her face. Wishing her a few more hours of peace he gently eases the door shut, leaning his head against the door frame he can’t help but feel extremely grateful that his girlfriend has taken his crazy life in stride. Anyone else might have sent his ass straight to the nearest psychiatric hospital the same evening he’d left saying he needed to find his brother, the same brother he hadn’t really mentioned in over a year, but she’d trusted him time and again. I’m going to marry this woman someday, if she’ll have me, he thinks to himself.

Taking in a deep breath, he turns away and begins to walk back down to the study, not intending to stop searching until he can find a way to save Dean.


	6. Chapter Six

Slamming the cover of yet another dusty tome, Sam is beyond frustrated. Between himself, Bobby and Dean they have gone through the majority of books in Bobby’s extensive library and have yet to find a single mention of how to restore Dean or anything about his necklace.

“Nothing!” Dean barks, banging down the book he was holding.

“Would you two quit being so damn rough with my books, most of these are older than ya Granddaddy” Bobby says with a scowl.

“Sorry, Bobby” the brothers say together.

“I hate to say it boys, but I’m running outta ideas here. We’ve gone through just about every book I have”

Dean just sighs and picks up one of the books Sam had already been though.

Walking back over to the book shelves, Sam scans through the remaining titles. All that’s left are some medical journals, for when Bobby had needed to either stitch someone up on the fly or perform an autopsy, and a few versions of the Bible. He’s about to turn back to the table when a smaller book nestled between the Bibles catches his eye. Slipping it off the shelf he quickly flicks through a few pages, but realizes it’s not any of the languages that he knows how to read.

“Bobby, what’s this book?” he asks, holding up the cover for the older man to see.

“Huh, I forgot I even owned that. It’s supposedly a compendium of angels and angelic objects. It’s written in Enochian though so I haven’t read much of it, I’m not exactly fluent”

“There’s no such thing as angels” Dean scoffs.

Ignoring his older brother, Sam takes a seat back at the table and slowly goes through each page eyes snapping to the intricate drawings that are placed next to the foreign words.

“Well I’ll be damned” Sam exclaims, there in black and white is Dean’s necklace.

“You found something?” Dean asks, walking round the table to join his brother.

“Apparently I’m a lot better at giving gifts than I thought. Look.”

He holds the book out for the other men to see.

“Just because it’s in that book, doesn’t mean it’s angelic. Bobby, do you think you can translate that?”

Sam passes the book to Bobby, who scans over the text.

“Like I said, I’m not fluent but I recognise a few of these symbols. It’s gonna take me a few hours but I reckon I can at least get the gist of what it says”

“That’s better than what we currently have” says Sam, feeling hopeful.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t say ‘Made in China’” Dean says, laughing at his own joke.

“I’m not going to get much done with you two standing behind me, so why not make yourselves useful and go start some dinner” Bobby says, already turning his concentration on to the book before him.

 

* * *

  

Rooting through the meagre contents of Bobby’s cupboards and fridge, Sam finds enough ingredients to make a simple meal of macaroni and cheese.

Once he has the meal prepared and cooking, he turns his attention to Dean who is currently sitting at the kitchen table, staring forlornly at a bottle of Bobby’s cheap whiskey.

“Dean, I know this has got to be tough. I’m sorry you can’t have a drink to take the edge off, but I’m here if you want to talk”

Sam expects his big brother to scowl, make a biting remark or even walk from the room. He doesn’t expect a smile to lighten up Dean’s face.

“Sammy, as a good as a pity party for one sounds about now, I wasn’t mourning the loss of heartburn and hangovers. I’m trying to make the bottle move”

“Oh. Well, uh, how’s that going?”

“I got no clue what I’m doing here, man. It was just instant last time; I didn’t even think about it, I didn’t even mean to do it”

“Well why not try recreating the situation. Bobby has hundreds of empty bottles around here, why not take some out to the yard and give it a go. Maybe you can grab onto the sensation and try again without smashing glass everywhere”

“Not a bad plan, Sammy. Besides not like I can eat whatever it is your burning anyways”

“Dammit!” Sam exclaims, swinging back round to take the now burnt and smoking pasta off the stove and dumping the contents into the sink.

“Good thing you already got the girl, Samantha. You definitely ain’t winning anyone over with your cooking” Dean says, laughing, “I’ll be outside if you need me”.

Sam leans back against the counter as he watches Dean walk out into yard.  Grateful he hadn’t set the smoke alarm off, assuming Bobby even has one, Sam contemplates what to do about dinner.

Grimacing at the now empty cupboards, he decides to wake Jess, see what she would like and make a quick run to the nearest store.

 

* * *

 

Just over an hour later Sam is driving back to Bobby’s down a nearly deserted stretch of highway, the back seat laden with enough groceries to keep them going for at least a week. Jess had wanted to come with him, but still fearing for her safety he’d asked her to stay behind at the Salvage Yard. He could tell she hadn’t been happy, but as long as she was safe right now, he could make it up to her later.

As his thoughts drift over the events of the last few days, Sam doesn’t spot the police cruiser pulling out of a side road until the sirens start. Glancing down at the speedometer, he realises he’s been going nearly 20 miles per hour over the speed limit in his rush to get back to Bobby’s.

Easing the Impala to a stop at the side of the highway, Sam turns off the ignition and gives the car a once over before the officer reaches him, thankful that there aren’t any weapons lying around. Quickly reaching into the glove compartment, he pulls out one of the fake ID’s with his photo on it, feeling glad he’d grabbed his Fed badge and not the Park Ranger one that they’d used very occasionally.

Winding down his window he smiles up at the cop, who shines his flashlight across Sam and the rest of the car’s interior.

“Sorry if I was speeding Officer, I was on my way to a crime scene” he says, with his most disarming smile and a flash of his badge.

“Can you step out of the car please sir” the cop says, not even bothering to look at Sam’s fake credentials.

“Is that really necessary? I’m in a rush, got a homicide a few towns over that needs FBI presence” Sam says, putting extra emphasis on FBI.

“Step out of the car, sir”

Trying not to sigh in annoyance, Sam grabs the keys and climbs out of the car. He turns to face the cop. The other man looks to be in his fifties, with gray thinning hair and his uniform is pulled taut over a round stomach that’s seen one too many beers. His shiny name badge has Officer H.Marks, printed in bold letters.

“Look Officer Marks, I appreciate you’re just doing your job, but I really need to go. The Assistant Director finds out that I couldn’t get to the crime scene before the evidence was contaminated because I was pulled over for speeding, I can’t imagine he’s going to be too happy”

“Are you trying to threaten me, boy?”

“What? No, I’m just trying to tell you that there are more important things happening right now than me speeding”

“Like getting back to your little girlfriend” the cop says, eyes flashing to black.

Feeling as though all the oxygen has been punched out of him, Sam forcefully shoves the older man away and reaches for the gun he has stashed in his waistband. He takes aim and sends a single shot straight into the demons kneecap, sending it sprawling to the ground. Knowing that it will only slow the demon momentarily he races to the rear of the car and has the trunk open in seconds, grabbing a bag of salt. Sam walks back to the possessed cop and quickly spreads a ring of salt, effectively trapping him.

“Who are you?” Sam shouts at the demon, aiming his gun at its head.

“No one special, just a little welcoming party on behalf of someone who is very much looking forward to meeting you”

“Who?” he yells.

“All in good time Sammy, all in good time” the demon smirks up at him.

“Tell me now, or I’ll send your ass straight back to hell”

“Hmmm, going back to the pit or pissing off the boss. Those are some great choices! I tell you what, rather than spending the next five minutes sending one little demon back downstairs, why don’t you get back in that ugly car and try to get back to fake daddy’s house before all that’s left are bloody corpses”

“You’re lying!” Sam says, angrily, “Demons always lie!”

“You willing to test that theory?” the demon drawls with a laugh.

Contemplating his options, Sam runs to the cop cruiser and grabs the radio handset. Luckily the car has a GPS system installed so he won’t have to give his location.

“Officer Marks has been shot, repeat Officer down. Please send an ambulance to his location”

Sam hears an immediate reply from the control centre but he’s already running back to the Impala. Rummaging through the trunk he finds an old tape player that he’d placed in the Impala the last time John had thought they’d caught wind of the Yellow Eyed Demon.

Setting the player down he makes sure the tape is at the start and then hits play, extremely glad that recorded exorcisms still worked the same as giving them in real life. When his recorded voice fills the air in Latin, Sam leans forward and drags one finger through the salt line.

The demon begins to scream and writhe, but Sam’s already back in the Impala slamming his door. Squealing back onto the highway, Sam risks one more glance in his rear-view at Officer Marks, and is relieved to see the first swirls of black escape from his mouth.

Pulling out his cell phone Sam, tries Bobby’s house phone but no one answers. Trying not to panic he dials Jess next but has the same result. Pushing his foot down on the gas, the Impala roars around him.

As he speeds along the darkened road Sam cycles through the numbers he has for Bobby, Dean and Jess, repeatedly trying each, but still not getting an answer.

 

* * *

 

 

It feels like a lifetime but fifteen minutes later he pulls back into Bobby’s Yard.

Slamming on the breaks, Sam starts yelling for everyone before he’s even fully out of the car. Taking in the exterior of the house does nothing to allay his fears, nothing seems out of place but he can’t hear anyone calling back to him from inside the house.

Bursting through the front door he has his gun out again, pointed ahead of him as he walks through the house. When he reaches the living room a horrific smell assaults his senses and brings him to a halt. He knows that smell, no matter how hard he’s tried to block it, he has never forgotten the scent of burning flesh.

“JESS!” Sam screams, his eyes sweep madly over the room but there’s no sign of anyone. Nothing seems out of place, he can’t even be sure that the papers scattered on the floor weren’t there from when they were researching earlier.

He turns to try upstairs when he hears Dean’s voice calling him, and a tiny bit of tension leaves his body.

“Dean! Where are you?”

“In the basement, I can’t get out. Get down here!”

Sprinting towards the basement stairs the acrid, disgusting smell gets much stronger. Flinging open the door the scent hits him full force and he has to concentrate on not vomiting. Looking down at the door threshold, he can see a line of salt that definitely wasn’t there earlier.

Quickly descending the steps, it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dingy basement light before noticing that Dean is standing over the prone figure of Bobby on the floor, whose face is covered in blood from what appears to be a nasty gash on his forehead. 

 “Dean, what the hell happened? Where’s Jess, is she down here?”

His older brother looks absolutely distraught at the mention of Jess’s name.

“No, she’s not. They took her, Sammy. Me and Bobby did everything we could, but there was too many of ‘em. They knocked Bobby out after they grabbed her, and tossed him down here. They’d already vanished with Jess so I ran down to make sure Bobby wasn’t dead, but before I could get back upstairs those fucks laid down a salt line, I’ve been stuck down here since”

 “Who took her, Dean?” he asks, his voice low and broken from barely restrained tears.

 “I was outside practicing my new mojo, when I heard them. I ran back to the house to warn Bobby and Jess but there were already more of them coming in through the back. Only thing I know is that they weren’t demons. Fuckers came in like they owned the frigging place; devils traps did nothing to stop them”

 Dean huffs out a breath and runs his hand through his hair. Sam’s mind needlessly supplies that this is a pointless action now that Dean is a ghost. Looking at his brother’s face Sam can tell he’s holding something back. Dean won’t meet his eyes and he keeps darting looks to the back of the basement.

 “Dean, what is it? I know there’s something you’re not telling me”

 “I, uh, look in the scheme of things it’s not high on the list, but uh, they burnt my body Sammy. It’s gone. One of them must’ve snuck down here whilst we were trying to get to Jess”

 Realisation dawns in Sam as to where the horrific smell is emanating. Stumbling over to where they’d placed Dean’s body earlier that day, he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Blackened ashes are all that remain of his big brothers body.

 “Oh my god” Sam utters. The shock finally catches up and sends him crashing to the floor.

 Dean must walk up behind him, because he suddenly feels a cold weight rest on his shoulder.

 “We’ll get her back Sammy, we won’t stop till we have her back”

 A groaning noise startles them both, and Sam has his gun trained on the direction of the sound before he’s even taken another breath.

 “Bobby!”

 Climbing to his feet, he slips the gun back into his waistband. Both brothers walk back over to Bobby who is sitting up with a pained expression and slightly glazed eyes.

 “Is she okay? Is Jess okay?” he asks gruffly.

 Sam guesses his own expression must be all the answer the older man needs, as he doesn’t ask any more questions. Each brother places an arm under Bobby and help lift him to his feet. Dean reaches down and picks up Bobby’s hat, brushing off the dust before handing it back.

 “Damn! I’m sorry Sam, we really tried to stop them” he says with a grimace, as he places his hat back on.

 “I know you did, Bobby. I know. Did you recognise who it was that took her?”

 Dean and Bobby share a look before any answer is given. Dean is the first to speak.

 “We’ll they weren’t demons, like I said. If I had to guess I’d say they were witches, but there was a demon with them. He waited outside”

 “Did you speak to him, did he say who he was?” Sam asks, wincing at the panicked edge to his voice.

 “We know who he was, Sammy” Another look is exchanged between the two other men, before Dean continues, “It was Yellow Eyes”

 “Oh God” bile rises up his throat. Turning away, his mind spins and he dry heaves until he feels a soothing hand rubbing his back.

 Of all the demons in the world, it had to be the one that killed their mother. They’d hunted that son of a bitch for years without ever getting close to him. Even John had never been close enough to have a chance at taking it out.

 Shrugging away from Dean’s hand, he turns back to his small family.

 “We gotta find Dad, Dean. He’s been on the demons trail for years. If anyone can help me get Jess back, it’s Dad”

 “That’s not gonna be possible, boy” Bobby says, with a sad look.

 “What? I know he’s been missing for a while but he’ll come when he knows what’s happened”

 “Sammy-“ Dean starts to speak.

 “No Dean! I know we’ve had some issues but Dad will come for this. He may be a bastard, but he’s not a vindictive bastard”

 “He can’t come, Sam”

 “And why not!!” he practically screams

 “Because he was already here” Dean yells back at him.

 “What?”

 “Yellow Eyes, Sammy. He’s possessing Dad”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter. Apologies if there are any errors, not beta read. Thank you to all the wonderful people that have commented, left kudos or subscribed - every little alert I get makes my day! Please let me know if anyone spots any continuity or spelling errors - need all the help I can get :)


	7. Chapter Seven

 “Yellow Eyes, Sammy. He’s possessing Dad”

Anything Sam is about to say dies on his tongue. The panic he felt learning Jess had been taken magnifies a hundred fold, to the point he’s struggling to breathe. He doesn’t know whether it’s Bobby or Dean that helps him back out of the basement, a gentle but firm grip to his shoulder guides him to a chair. After a while he’s vaguely aware of his brother’s face floating in front of him, and he can see his mouth moving but he can’t understand any words, a loud thrumming sound filling his ears.

The more he tries to concentrate on what Dean is saying, the harder it becomes. He closes his eyes for what he assumes is a second but when he reopens them, Dean is nowhere to be seen.

He doesn’t know if it’s been minutes or hours since he was moved from the basement, but as awareness returns to him he hears low voices speaking hurriedly from the kitchen.

“What’s wrong with him, Bobby? I’ve never seen his eyes blank like that”

“He’s in shock. He’s lost his girlfriend, his father and his brother in one night. How do you expect him to react?”

“He didn’t lose me! I’m right here.”

“Well, that sure as hell ain’t a burnt meatloaf that we can smell. Now unless you have another body stashed somewhere you gotta face facts.”

Whatever Dean says next is too low for Sam to hear, so gently easing himself from the chair he walks quietly towards the kitchen, intent on hearing the rest of this conversation. Keeping back, he peeks round the corner to see his brother and surrogate father seated at the kitchen table.

“What did you just say, boy?” Bobby growls, sounding angrier than Sam can remember.

“I said it doesn’t matter about me”

“Doesn’t matter…Dean, your body being intact was the most likely way of fixing you”

“Yeah, well there are more pressing matters right now”

“Dean…” the older man starts again.

“NO!” Dean yells, bringing his fists slamming down onto the table.

At the very instant his hands connect with the old wooden surface, every cupboard and drawer in the kitchen flies open, sending their various contents spilling across the room. Plates and glasses smash to the floor and an old steel knife hurtles the length of the room before becoming embedded, up to the hilt, in the door frame.

For a minute there is utter stillness as the three men take in the devastation of Dean’s outburst.

Then Bobby’s chair screeches against the floor as he moves to stand up.

The sound shakes them loose from the paralyzing silence that had fallen. Sam sees Dean’s eyes snap to his, and then horror fills his big brothers face as he notices the knife less than a foot from Sam’s face.

“I…I’m sorry.”

Sam steps further into the kitchen, careful to avoid the broken glass and plates now covering nearly every surface of the floor.

Dean retreats further into the corner with every step Sam takes forward; his eyes roam the mess wildly.

“Fuck, Bobby I am so sorry. I’ll pay for everything”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about some broken glass, ya idjit” Bobby says, but Sam notices the way he keeps staring at his brother, something caught between confusion and awe.

“What are you thinking, Bobby” Sam finally says, his voice rough from disuse.

At Sam’s question Bobby visibly makes an effort to clear any emotion from his face before responding.

“Nothing that can’t wait for later” he replies, but his eyes still flick back to Dean.

“How long was I out?” he asks, deciding to question Bobby again later, when they have a moment alone.

“Just over two hours” Dean informs him quietly, “I know you heard what was just said, and you obviously saw it” he continues, eying the knife again, “But I am really not the issue right now. We’ve gotta find Jess before anything can happen to her. My…situation…is on the back burner till I say otherwise. There isn’t a goddamn thing any of us can do about it now, so until we have Jess and Dad back, just drop it.”

“Dean…”

“No, Sammy. No arguments”

“I wasn’t going to argue, I was going to say thank you” Sam says, slumping down into a chair after brushing broken glass on to the floor.

Hearing the shards scatter over the floor, Sam watches his big brothers expressions change rapidly from determined to ashamed, as he once again surveys the damage he caused.

“I’ll get a brush”

 

* * *

 

Leaving Dean to clear up the mess, Sam and Bobby retreat to the study. After firing up his laptop Sam starts searching news reports for any demonic signs or omens and Bobby goes back to trying to decipher the Enochian text describing Deans amulet.

“You found anything yet, Bobby?” Sam asks, peering over the laptop screen.

“I’ve only got a few words so far, but I gotta say, it ain’t making a lick of sense. I think it’s referring to finding something. This one word is repeated and as far as I can tell it translates roughly as seek or to find.”

“Seeking what?”

“I’m working on it.” The older man replies, returning his attention back to the text.

From the kitchen Sam can hear the continuous sweeping of his brother attempting to clear away all the smashed glass.

“Why were you looking at Dean like that in the kitchen?” he questions, lowering his voice.

Bobby looks towards the kitchen, listening for a moment before answering.

“You’ve been hunting ghosts with John for years, and you know as well as I do that even the most experienced ghost wouldn’t be able to do what Dean just did. Whatever this amulet really is, it’s more powerful than we originally thought”

“What does that mean for Dean?”

“I honestly don’t know, son. I need to decipher more of this text. There’s one word here that is confusing the hell outta me”

Turning the book around Bobby points at a word that Sam can see is dotted throughout the paragraph.

“It’s really difficult to translate accurately, but I think it’s something like ‘Light of God’ or ‘God’s Blessing’ depending on what I cross reference it with. Either way, if we can assume I’m anywhere near accurate, it would appear that Dean’s amulet is something to seek another angelic artifact or whatever the hell the ‘Light of God’ is” says Bobby.

“So do you think, when Dean tied his spirit to the amulet it somehow boosted his abilities?”

“I can’t think of any other explanation for it, and if the amulet is angelic in origin it makes about as much sense as anything else does.”

Just as Sam opens his mouth to reply, he hears Dean walking towards them. Sam looks at Bobby and catching the older man’s eyes, quickly shakes his head. Bobby must understand as he just goes back to looking at the book when Dean walks into the study.

“All clear in the kitchen” Dean says in lieu of greeting, sitting down in a vacant chair.

“You find any leads yet, Sammy?”

“There’s no signs major demonic activity on any news sites. A few storms here and there, but nothing that would indicate anything supernatural”

“Ok, well I’m going to hit the phones. No other hunters know I’m currently doing my very best Swayze impersonation, so they’ll still talk to me”

“Huh” rumbles Bobby.

“What is it old man?” Dean asks.

“Less of the old, boy, or do you want see how old I am when I grab my salt?”

“What are you thinking, Bobby?” Sam interrupts before Dean can form a sarcastic response.

“How do you boys feel about a road trip? I think I know some people in Nebraska who might be able to help.”

 

* * *

 

Harvelles Roadhouse was apparently as safe place for hunters from all over. How they’d never heard of it was something Dean couldn’t figure out.

Bobby said he’d known Ellen Harvelle, the owner of the Roadhouse, for years. Even John had been known to visit from time to time, but as seemed to be the case with most hunter establishments, he was no longer welcome. Bobby wouldn’t go into specifics being ‘not his story to tell’ but Dean had at least been able to get enough information to know it had something to do with Ellen’s husband dying.

After rapidly throwing their bags back into the trunk of the Impala, the three men had set off from the Salvage Yard and now a few hours later were pulled up outside Harvelles.

Looking at the exterior, Dean smiles, it seemed exactly like the type of place he’d frequent given half a chance. No doubt it’d have sawdust on the floor, a busted old pool table and a lingering smell of spilt beer and hamburger grease. Perfect, in other words.

Angling the Impala into a vacant space, Sam eases the car to a stop. From the back seat Bobby leans forward to get the brothers attention.

“Dean, I know this ain’t what you wanna hear, but I need you to wait in the car”

The smile he wear slides from his face as he turns to face the elder hunter.

“I can see you gearing up for a fight, but hold your damn horses. This is a hunter bar, meaning that it’s got every known protection against ghosts, demons and practically anything else you can think of inside those walls. Sam and I are gonna go in first and speak with Ellen. If she decides to trust us, and that’s a big if, I’ll send your brother back out to get you. She has a back storage room that you could slip into, if enough of the wardings are broken”

Dean nods in acknowledgement, before slamming himself back into the passenger seat and staring sullenly out the window. He knows Bobby is right, but the idea of letting his younger brother go in without him just feels wrong.

“Alright Bobby, but anything happens to Sammy, or you for that matter, I’m gonna haunt you till the end of days” he spits out, still staring ahead.

“I hear ya, boy.”

“Stay in the car, Dean. Please don’t do anything you’ll regret, we’ll be back before you know it” Sam adds.

“Okay, Mom” he grumbles.

Sam and Bobby both exit the car and Deans eyes are fixed on them until they disappear inside. He fiddles with the radio for a few minutes before huffing a sigh at the poor selection and choosing just to sit in silence.

About ten minutes after Bobby and Sam had entered Harvelles Dean watches as a rusted old pick-up pulls in and parks a few meters away from the Impala.

As the driver and his passenger clamber out of the vehicle Dean groans and tries to sink further into his seat. Of all the rotten fucking luck, of course it would be Roy and Walt, he thinks to himself. Two dumber hunters, he’d yet to meet. How these two idiots were still alive was beyond him.

Just as he begins to hope they hadn’t spotted him he hears them stop walking.

“Hey, isn’t that Winchesters car?”

“I’ll be goddamned. It sure is”

He hears the crunch of gravel get louder as they approach, and decides to head them off. Climbing out of the Impala he concentrates all he has on staying visible and solid.

“Heya guys, long time no see” he says amicably, hoping to move them along quicker.

“Dean Winchester, gotta say this is the last place I would be expecting to see you” Walt says.

“Everyone needs a cheap drink now and then” Dean replies,

“Well, word on the grapevine is you don’t need to drink anymore Dean-o” states Roy, causing Dean to choke on his next words.

“Not much use for breathing anymore either” Walt adds, drawing a pistol from his waistband.

“I got no clue what you’re talking about fellas” he tells them, edging towards the entrance of the bar, holding up his hands.

Looking towards the front door of the Roadhouse, Dean notices too late that another man had crept up behind him whilst he was trying to get away from Walt and Roy.

It’s only when he hits an invisible barrier that he realizes they’ve laid a salt circle around him.

“I always knew you were attached to that ugly ass car, Dean, but sitting there all alone and haunting it. Now, that’s just sad”

“You shut your fucking mouth, Roy. Before I shut it for you”

“What you gonna do hotshot? Cos from where I’m standing you’re trapped”

Deans mind races as he continues to sneer at his captors. Looking at the third man, he recognizes the hunter, an older man called Jefferson. He’d worked a case with Dean and John a few years back, he’d been a quiet man but kind and honest. What he was doing here with these two idiots, Dean could only guess.  All three men are standing in front of him now, with Roy and Walt discussing how to proceed.

“I say we burn the car. What else could be tethering him here? Burn the car and lay him to rest. You heard what that demon said. Winchesters body is already dust”

“You touch my car, it’ll be the last thing you’ll ever do” Dean growls out dangerously, filing the demon comment away for later.

Jefferson pales at this, but Roy and Walt just laugh.

“Jefferson, you helped me and my dad a while back. You leave now, and I’ll forget you were ever here.” He doesn’t think the other men have noticed the crackle of energy surrounding him, but after what happened in Bobby’s kitchen earlier that day, he knows that something big is about to go down.

“I helped you fellas like you asked, but I got no quarrel with Dean. You do what you gotta do, but I’m leaving.”

Roy, Walt and Dean all watch as the older man practically runs back the way he came from behind Dean, a moment later they hear a car roar to life before speeding past down the highway.

“I’m going to give you boys’ one last chance to get the hell out of here”

The air cracks violently now as the Roy walks towards the Impala, pulling a zippo from his pocket, he flips the cover open.

“No can do, Winchester. You’re a ghost and we’re hunters. You’d be doing the same if you were in our shoes.” Walt remarks, his gun still aimed.

Roy opens the passenger door and looks back at Dean, smirking as he flicks the lighter to life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so freaking sorry for the delay in updating. I got really disillusioned with this and felt like it was a load of crap....but I get really annoyed reading someone else's story and then realising it's incomplete, So for all it's issues, I hope you enjoy.


	8. Chapter Eight

When Sam enters the Roadhouse following Bobby, his first impression is oddly comforting. He’s never been to this specific bar before, but a life on the road means he’s visited his fair share of places like this, and whilst not always at the forefront of his favorite memories, he still feels a sense of nostalgia.

It’s dark inside, tables are dotted around and booths are lining the walls. It’s currently empty which he supposes isn’t that strange considering the remote location of the Roadhouse.

Bobby leads them straight up to the bar, behind which is a petite blonde that looks to be about 19. Sam thinks Dean might call her ‘cute’, but the scowl she’s sending their way would’ve even faltered Dean’s flirty behavior.

“It sure is good to see you Joanna Beth” Bobby says.

Eyeing the both of them, she heaves a sigh before grabbing two beers and slamming them down on the counter.

“Save the charm, Bobby. You only ever stop by here for one reason and that usually spells trouble. You two grab a booth and I’ll go find my mom”

With a flip of her hair, she disappears back into what Sam assumes is the kitchen. Picking up their beers, Sam follows Bobby over to a booth tucked into one of the corners and sits opposite the older man.

“That was Jo, her mom Ellen owns this place. Jo might be small but don’t be fool enough to think her soft. More than a one poor soul has gone to the hospital after trying to get a little too friendly with that firecracker” Bobby say’s, a smiling crossing his face.

“Damn straight, Singer. I taught my girl well”

Sam looks up to see a middle aged woman approaching the table. She has a kind and caring face, but he can sense immediately that she’s got a hard edge to her. He wonders how many people she’s sent to the hospital too.

“Ellen, damn it’s been too long” Bobby says, standing to give the woman a hug, which she returns with a solid pat to the back.

“Normally I’d agree, but seeing as how every time you drag your ass to see me, there are usually half a dozen demons on your tail, I’ll just ask who your friend is instead” She replies, nodding her head towards Sam.

“Right. Ellen, this is Sam Winchester. Sam, this is Ellen Harvelle.”

“Winchester? You’re one of John’s boys?”

“Yes ma’am” he says, standing and offering his hand.

“Ma’am? You sure don’t seem like John’s son. You call me Ellen, honey. Now as much as I love this old coot” she says, slapping Bobby on the back “What brings you two here, and don’t say you came for the food, cos as good as I am, it ain’t worth crossing state lines for”

Slipping back into the booth, Ellen sits beside Sam but looks at Bobby expectantly.

“We’re looking for John. I’ve called about every damn hunter I know, but you got a lot more traipsing through here on a daily basis. I was hoping you might’ve heard anything that might point us in his direction” Bobby explains

“We’ll I haven’t heard anything myself, but I could put the word out if-”

“No!” Sam interrupts, cringing at the thought of an innocent hunter approaching his possessed father.

Ellen turns towards him, and he can tell she knows instantly that things are worse than either man has mentioned so far.

She looks over both men, obviously trying to silently discern what kind of shit they’ve brought her way.

Growing up with just a father, Sam often wondered when he was younger what it would be like to be scolded by a mom, rather than being made to do extra push-ups like John had dished out for any errant behavior. With the look Ellen is sending his way now, he thinks he might be about to find out first hand.

Both men shift uncomfortably in their seats under the scrutiny. Sam is about to break the silence when Ellen simply holds up a hand to stop him.

“You’re going to tell me what you’re really doing here, and don’t either of you go lying to me now” Ellen says, with a look so fierce that lying doesn’t even cross Sam’s mind, but thankfully Bobby saves him by answering first.

“We really are looking for John. It’s that…he doesn’t happen to be behind the wheel of his body at the moment.”

“You wanna maybe explain that a bit more?”

“You know who John was hunting?” Bobby asks.

“The same bastard he’s always hunting. Yellow Eyes” she replies, worry now changing her expression.

“Well, it would appear that Yellow Eyes found him first. Last we saw of John, he was possessed by that son of a bitch”

“Shit” she spits out. “I’m guessing there’s a lot more to this story, but I think we’re all gonna need something a lot stronger than beer. I’m going to grab my top shelf whiskey and three large glasses. Don’t you fellas move a muscle.”

Sam watches as Ellen slides from the booth and marches back towards the bar.

“She might be the kindest, most loyal woman I’ve ever met, but damn if she doesn’t scare me silly.” Bobby says, in a lowered voice as if Ellen may hear him across the bar.

Sam opens his mouth to reply but stops when he hears the unmistakable sound of Deans voice shouting at someone or something outside.

His hopes are dashed that he’s the only one to have heard him when he sees Ellen reappearing with a shotgun in her hands.

“What are those drunken fools up to now?” She barks, storming towards the door.

Sam and Bobby are both instantly up and running across the room.

“Ellen, wait!” Bobby yells.

As she reaches for the door, an explosive force sends them all flying backwards. The windows shatter and glass shards spray across the entire bar. All the light bulbs above them explode plunging the bar into complete darkness.

The ground rumbles around them and for one confused moment Sam wonders if it’s an earthquake. He can make out Bobby and Ellen both laying a few feet from him, and just as he’s about to ask if they’re okay a blindingly white light floods the bar. He slams his eyes shut and hopes that they have the sense to do the same.

Sam stays huddled on the floor for a few more minutes before he feels the world around him still. He raises his arm away and can tell that the light has vanished. Slowly opening his eyes he sees Ellen already clambering to her feet.

“Jo!” Ellen yells towards the kitchen.

“Joanna Beth, you answer me”, she yells again.

The kitchen door swings open revealing a disheveled looking Jo. Ellen rushes forward and grabs onto her daughter, apparently inspecting her for damage.

“I’m alright, Mom” Jo says, as Ellen continues to brush glass off of her.

Bobby is already standing and helps pull Sam to his feet.

“You alright, boy?” Bobby asks.

“Yeah, I think so.” He replies, carefully dusting the glass off of his clothes.

“Oh God, Dean!” Sam spits out, turning for the entrance.

The door is hanging from its hinges after the mysterious blast, and Sam walks cautiously out into the car park.

Sam’s mouth drops open at the sight before him.

There are a few cars in the parking lot and all, except the Impala, have had their windows blown out, debris is littered all over the gravel floor.

With his back to Sam, Dean is currently standing in the middle of a shallow crater, with what appears to be salt circle surrounding him. Wind is whipping around him causing his clothes and hair to ripple, but strangely it’s concentrated within the circle as Sam can’t feel any wind despite seeing the evidence before him.

Even though Sam knows he no longer needs it, his brother is breathing heavily but most worryingly of all is the bright glowing light that is covering Dean’s body.

“Dean?” Sam calls hesitantly.

His brother gradually turns to face Sam, Dean’s face is void of any expression and his eyes are glowing a brilliant white.

“Dean, can you hear me?” Sam tries again.

“Sa…Sammy?”

The light fades from Dean’s eyes first, swirling slowly, returning the color to the vibrant green that Sam is so used to. He watches as his older brother seems to take in the destruction around him, noticing that the wind has now ceased as well.

Dean opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by glass crunching.

Sam turns to see that Bobby, Ellen and Jo have exited the Roadhouse and are staring at Dean, they all look as shocked as Sam feels.

Returning his attention to Dean, he takes a slow step forward

“Dean, are you okay? Can you tell me what happened?” Sam asks

“I…uh….oh fuck, Sammy. I swear it was an accident. Walt and Roy were here, I thought if I spoke to them like normal they’d just leave, but they knew about me. Said ‘a demon’ told them.”

A light touch to Sam’s arm causes him to flinch, but he calms immediately when he realizes that it’s only Ellen, but it doesn’t last long when he realizes Ellen has her shotgun aimed at Dean.

“Would either one of you be so kind as to explain what in the hell just happened to my bar?”

“Uh…Ellen, this is my brother Dean. He’s the other reason we’re here.”

“No shit!” she says, “But that doesn’t explain why I’ve got over a dozen windows I gotta replace or why your brother was glowing like a goddamn night light. What the hell are you?”

“You don’t need the gun, Ellen.” Bobby calls from behind them, approaching slowly with Jo at his side.

“Hell I don’t. Just like always Singer, bringing trouble right to my door. Now, you might trust this thing” she says gesturing towards Dean “but I’m not seeing one good reason as to why!”

“Look, lady. I’m sorry about your windows –but Walt and fucking Roy were going to hurt my Baby.”

“They threatened your baby? Wait, you’ve got a kid?” Ellen asks, obviously confused.

“Oh my god, Dean…” Sam mutters, as a light blinks on in his head. “He’s talking about his car, Ellen. They threatened to damage his car” he continues, indicating towards the only one in the lot that’s untouched.

“You did all of this” She says, gesturing around at the mess, ”Because they threatened your car?”

“Uh…” Dean has the sense to look ashamed.

“Wait…Dean, where are Roy and Walt now?” asks Bobby.

“Roy was about to set light to the Impala, they were under the impression it was the only thing keeping me here. Walt was where you’re standing now and Roy was standing by the passenger door just before…it, uh, I…before things went to shit.”

Still pointing the gun, Ellen walks towards the front of the car, not taking her aim off of Dean. Her eyes scan the ground around the Impala. Bobby and Jo also start searching for any evidence of Roy or Walt.

“There’s nobody here, ‘cept us, but that’s their car.” Ellen says, pointing to one of the shattered vehicles, “Now I want some answers, and I want them now. What are you and where the hell are Roy and Walt?”

 “I don’t know what happened to those two idiots, but to answer your first question. I’m a ghost.”

“A ghost? There hasn’t ever been any reports of ghosts being able to do what you did.” Jo replies.

“He’s telling the truth,” says Bobby, “Now I got a few suspicions after the light show that might provide a few more answers, but first things first, Ellen you wanna lower the gun? I’ll vouch for the kid, he won’t hurt you or Jo. Besides, if my thoughts prove right, those salt rounds aren’t going to a damn thing to him anyways.”

“What are you talking about, Bobby?” Dean calls over, having not moved since they’d all exited the Roadhouse.

“Boy, rather than yelling, get your ass over here and apologize properly to Ellen for destroying her bar.”

Sam watches incredulously as Dean, seemingly completely unaware, climbs out of the shallow crater and drags his feet over to their small gathering.

“Dean! You just crossed a salt line!” Sam exclaims.

His brother looks confused, before peering down at the clear scuffs his foot prints have rendered in the salt.

Wide green eyes swing over the scene before settling on Sam. Dean takes a few steps forward with his hand outstretched, Sam doesn’t have time to brace as Deans hand waves unceremoniously through his head.

“Damnit Dean! Don’t do that!” he yells, futilely trying to bat his brother’s incorporeal hands away.

“Sorry, it was the quickest way I could think to check”

“If you two idiots are quite done, do ya think we can get back to-“

“Wait! Do you hear that?” Deans says, interrupting.

Now everyone’s stopped talking Sam does hear something, it sounds like Metallica playing softly in the Impala.

“That’s my cell” Dean says, striding towards the car. He reaches in through the partially open window and jogs back a second later with the cell in his hand.

“Huh…Well this outta be interesting” he says.

Flipping open the phone he answers, placing the call on loud speaker. A voice screeches down the line before anyone has a chance to say a word.

“Winchester! You son of a bitch!”

“Nice to hear from you again so soon, Roy” Dean says with a smile, watching the dumbfounded expressions of everyone standing around him.

“Roy, it’s Ellen. Where the hell are you?” she asks, finally pointing the gun at the ground.

“Ellen, get away from him, he’s a goddamn monster!”

“Well, from the way I hear it, you weren’t exactly giving him any time to explain.”

“He’s a ghost! We kill ghosts” Roy squawks.

“I’m already dead, you dumb piece of shit” Dean chimes in.

“Can it, Winchester. Roy, is Walt with you? Do you know where you are?” Ellen says.

“Yeah, Walt’s with me. I don’t know how the fuck that demon scum did it, but we’re in goddamn Mexico!”

“Mexico!?” Jo splutters.

“But you better believe we’re heading straight back for you, Dean. I promise the last face you’re ever going to see-“

“Bye Roy” Dean shouts over his tirade, flipping the phone shut.

“Ellen, can I get that whiskey now?” Sam asks, sighing.

 

* * *

 

 

Over the next hour or so, between the five of them, they’d managed to clear away most of the glass. Bobby and Sam had secured sheet plastic to the windows until they could be repaired and had fixed the door back onto its hinges, which was now locked.

Ellen had also been able to replace all the broken bulbs, but had kept most of the lights off to deter potential customers.

After it became apparent that he hadn’t actually murdered Roy and Walt, Ellen had become a lot more hospitable towards Dean. She’d even gone into their back storage room and removed any warding to keep him out.

Now they’re all seated in the small back room, with whiskies for Sam, Bobby and Ellen and a soda for Jo. Dean watched wistfully as Bobby took a long swallow of his drink.

“Bobby, you said you had some suspicions” Ellen prompted, startling Dean from his reverie, “and I want to hear the rest of this story too.”

“Right…well in regards to Dean. Like we’ve said, he really is a ghost, but as you know he’s not exactly normal.”

“Hey!” Dean protests.

“We’ll get to the story after I’ve explained what my theory is about what happened tonight.” Bobby continues, ignoring Dean’s indignant look.

“Walt and Roy were correct on one thing. Dean is tethered here to a possession, but it’s not the Impala. We can trust them Dean, show them your amulet.” Sam adds.

Feeling exposed with four sets of eyes on him, he reluctantly reaches under his shirt and pulls forth the necklace

“It’s nice and all, but I don’t see what’s so special” says Jo, after inspecting the charm.

“Well, a few days ago I would’ve told you that it was strong protection magic, but after doing some research I now think it has a different purpose altogether. We found an exact drawing of that idol in a book full of angelic objects. It took me a while to decipher and I still have work to do, but after witnessing Dean’s reaction to Roy attempting to torch the Impala, what I’ve learnt so far makes a lot more sense.”

“What did you find Bobby?” Ellen asks.

“I believe that necklace was created as a means of finding an angel, and to find an angel you need something angelic. When Dean bled onto his amulet to keep tethered I think some of the amulets power transferred to him. Which explains the amped up telekinesis, the bright lights and how Roy and Walt somehow took a trip down to Mexico in a matter of seconds.”

“I think the power has been building gradually though, which is why after his…outburst…salt is no longer affecting him”

All eyes are on Dean again, who is reeling at this latest revelation. With all that’s happened over the last few days, he supposes he shouldn’t have really expected anything less. Now they could add angels to the mix as well. Great, he thinks to himself.

“Bobby, I think we need to hear the rest of the story now” Ellen says, downing the last of her drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really tired and I'm not feeling great, so if anyone spots any errors please let me know. Thank you for all the comments, subscriptions and kudos I've received, it's very much appreciated!


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